


Unpredictable

by AlaxxisSade



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, original fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 72,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaxxisSade/pseuds/AlaxxisSade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two people from completely different worlds collide, the result is... unpredictable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kris

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a fanfiction... to my own original work. Does that count?

There is not a place on Earth more depressing than London in the rain. Take it from me.

            I stood in front of a shop window, looking at the exhibits without really registering anything. After all, the whole concept of window shopping was to kill time. It was not something I did often, but this morning I woke up, realized I had absolutely no plans for the day and thought, why not?

            Turns out one does not go window shopping easily when there is barely enough sunlight to wake a plant on the windowsill. I still had much to learn.

            “Do you want something?”

            A salesgirl approached me hopefully. Business must be worse than I had thought. Or perhaps I did not have the look of a casual shopper? I waved her away with a hint of annoyance. Surely she should know the difference between a window shopper and a prospective buyer.

            “E-excuse me… B-but do I know you from somewhere?”

            Uh-oh.

            I put on my most aloof smile. “No, I--”

            “Y-you’re Kris! From TRACK!”

            Oh, shit. I sighed inwardly, unfurled my umbrella and walked away as briskly as I could without seeming too rude. Already the girl was kicking up a fuss behind me. Hadn’t she seen the news? We were on hiatus. Heck, I did not even know where the others were right now. Finding their other purposes in life, no doubt, that did not involve being worshipped by errant fans. And I was supposed to concentrating on my long-estranged studies. Can’t a guy get away from all this once in a while?

            There were not many other shoppers out in the rain. The few that were, were either inexperienced as I was, or simply had nothing better to do. As such, I was not overly surprised when one such stranger came up to me, mischief obvious in that light and lilting voice.

            “Hey, mister. I hear you’re a superstar, that true?”

            I did not need this, but a hand gripped my sleeve and I could not pull away without drawing even more unwelcome attention. With a deep sigh, I turned around slowly, the threat of a lawsuit poised and ready on my tongue.

            Where it stayed, quite resolutely.

            “What, lost for words?”

            Animosity forgotten, I tilted my head to get a better look at this stranger. Having wallowed around in the entertainment industry for a few years, I had seen my share of beauties and beasts. In fact, I could say I lived with some of the best of them. But this one… my eyes lingered longer than they had for a long time on anything since my band went our separate ways.

            Long titian hair, tied up into a high ponytail but still brushing that trim waist. Cheeks slightly rosy in the cold, breath forming crystals in front of perfectly arched lips. Eyes that glinted gold and green, twinkling with mischief. This was a trouble-maker, and I was the unfortunate target.

            “First things first. Don’t take offense, ‘kay? It’s a dare from my mates back there.” And before I could say anything, the stranger leaned forward and kissed me directly on the lips.

            It was a fleeting touch, but I recovered from my shock quickly enough to be able to wonder at the coolness of that breath on my lips. How… interesting.

            The perpetrator leaned back to look at the results, and smirked. “Not as big a reaction as I’d anticipated. What, am I not pretty enough for you? Or do you get attacked like this all the time?”

            “Not from people like you, unfortunately.” The words left my mouth before I could think them over. Hmm. How unlike me. But as I savored the deeper tinge of scarlet on those cheeks, I decided I should do this more often. “Do you attack people like that often?”

            The blush receded, replaced instead by a pout that I fancied was just a touch flirtatious.

            “What if I said I did? Would that make you jealous? Mr Superstar.”

            Should I be surprised that there were teenagers who didn’t recognize me? I mulled that over, and decided the answer was yes. Which only added to this stranger’s odd appeal. “What if I said yes?”

            “Then you’d be a liar, like all adults.”

            I was amused. “I’m not that old. And you’re not that young.”

            “Sure coulda fooled me, old man. By the way, I don’t date anyone more than ten years older than me.”

            Before I could reply, one of the youths who I assumed had dared the one before me to assault me called back to us. “Yo, Sydney, you done hooking up yet? We’re gonna miss the previews!”

            So, it’s Sydney, huh? I was reminded irresistibly of the famous opera house, and smiled at the aptness.

            Sydney stuck out a tongue at the boy, and gave me one more seductive smirk before turning away. I found myself pondering the chances of us ever meeting again. Slim, considering we had never met before. London was a big place, with an even bigger population that never stopped to look around them, myself included. And even if I made a firm resolution to pay closer attention to my surroundings from here on out, there was no telling if we’d ever bump into each other again.

            Somehow, that made me feel… a little lonely.

            “I’m twenty-two.” Again, this stranger seemed to make me say things I never thought of saying.

            Sydney stopped, but did not turn around. “…That makes us six years apart. Still, I bet you’re the type who’d never lay hands on a minor.”

            “Oh? What makes you think so?” Maybe the cold and damp had put me out of sorts. Ryder would have appreciated it. Ashley would have worried about my health. Either way, I did something even I did not think I was capable of. In the middle of a usually busy street, veiled only by a sheet of London winter rain, I caught the shoulder of a teenage boy, turned him around and kissed him hard.


	2. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After that first encounter, the stray cat had yet to know how much it would change his life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story alternates between the two characters, so enjoy this first peek into Sydney's mind ;)

The first thing I did that night once I reached the dilapidated apartment I called home was to fire up my computer and Google up the man I’d just met on the streets. Of course, I could have done that on my smartphone, but seeing as it was still waiting for me at the pawnshop, I had to make do.

                As I waited for the screen to clear, I realized I was actually impatient. For useless shit like me who had all the time in the world and nothing much to show for it, that was saying a lot. I took things easy, I did. Every day, a step at a time. But somehow, I’d found myself miscounting those steps today, thinking about that kiss.

                That kiss… I touched my lips and remembered the warmth there. And here I thought I’d met a regular ice block. Those cold blue eyes… I suppressed a shudder at the memory. That was the look of a curious adult who had found an intriguing toy.

                The computer was whirring, the familiar Google homepage spread out before me, but my fingers remained suspended over the keyboard when I remembered I had no idea how to search him up. What did I know about him? That he was blonde, blue-eyed and unbelievably hot? That he was famous? Well, duh. Normal people like me usually didn’t show up on Google.

                What had he told me? His age. But how did that help? I shrugged, randomly keyed in ‘blonde blue-eyed twenty-two year-old celebrities’ and hit search. Lo and behold: there it was. A ‘Blonde and Blue-eyed: List of Celebrities under 25’. Ah, the wonders of Google.

                I clicked on the article half-heartedly, wondering if that man would have even made the list. Maybe he was some B-grade porn actor. That counted as famous in my books, but probably wouldn’t appeal to the people making lists like this. Would it?

                None of the names rang any bells to me, and the pictures took a bit longer to load on my crappy connection. So meanwhile I entertained myself by reading the descriptions, beginning from the bottom. There was a whole variety of people on the list, from singers to actors to football players. So was this what they meant by celebrities these days? By the time I was back at the top of the page, I was already bored. And the pictures were complete.

                I sat up straighter.

                There he was. Right there, top of the list. And it turns out he’s not some backdoor Hollywood nobody, after all. The biography provided was longer than the others, but still too short. I read every sentence over twice.

                _Drummer in the popular boyband TRACK… Reserved and mysterious… Certified genius… Currently pursuing his Masters in Oxbridge…_

I looked at his picture again, and tried to connect this obviously world-famous heartthrob to the unperturbed man I had just met a few hours ago. Well, I knew he was famous—that girl was practically drooling—but I would never have pinned him as a member of a boyband. And a drummer, no less…

                Then again, what _had_ I pinned him for? I stopped at that. What impression had he given me? Now that I really thought about it, I realized I did not know, only that it was a damn deep one.

                I reached over for my old Nokia and dialed up the guy who had introduced us in the first place. Sort of.

                “Hey, Rodge? Remember that bloke you made me kiss just now? Yeah, yeah, I liked it, but that’s not the point… You would never guess who he is…” My eyes found the name again.

Kristian Hart, 22

                …I wonder how he’d like it if I called him Kris?


	3. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time was a coincidence. The second is fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a bit more since it's just starting, so that you get the feel of it :3

Formal education had never quite appealed to me. That does not mean I do not understand its importance, of course, but I simply believe that education takes on many forms, the least of which include listening to someone reading out of a textbook and frantically taking notes.

            I spun my pen around my finger, and checked my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

            It had been there for quite some time now, but it had finally reached the point where even I could not deny it any longer: I was bored. Restless. Three years fooling around with TRACK made even an uneventful afternoon at home colorful. Ryder was always complaining about something, Tyr was always trying to shut him up. And on the not-so-rare occasion Tyr was not around, that job would fall to me.

            And then there was the music. There was _always_ music. Either Ashley or Cal would not be able to keep their fingers off the pianos, or someone would be blasting something somewhere for inspiration. Personally, I preferred headphones, but I did not object to Tyr playing some orchestra now and then. I put my foot down at Ryder’s full-blast, heavy metal, though, and that tended to lead to some increasingly intense confrontation. Which I had always won.

            I smiled at the memory. And the silence hit me again, like a wall.

            Out on the grounds, it was not as deafeningly quiet as it was inside, but the low hum of chatter made me feel even more irritable. It did not help that wherever I went, people stopped in the middle of their conversations to stare. One would think that here, of all places, the students would learn to not judge by appearances. Due to my bailing out on Harvard to gallivant with a boyband, I was now, _finally_ , schooling with people my own age. And yet, they ogle at me as though I was an alien, if not in awe at my lingering superstar status, then in disapproval at how royally I had messed up my life.

            There was more to life than perfect scores, I wanted to tell them, but then I realized right now I was in no position to talk.

            “Don’t got a lot of friends, do ya?”

            If he was looking for surprise on my face, he would not find it. In fact, I was genuinely unsurprised. “I have enough that count, they’re just not here.”

            “Yeah, I heard. A boyband, huh? Who’d have guessed?”

            “Who indeed?” I smiled at him bemusedly, feeling more alive than I had all week. “Took you a lot longer than I had expected, to find me here.”

            “Please, I found out all about you once I got home. Just so you know, it’s not easy sneaking into these grounds. Not that you’ve ever tried.”

            “I haven’t,” I admitted. “But who’s to say I won’t, someday?”

            Sydney tossed his head back and scoffed, and I wondered at how his hair rippled far too brightly for such a dreary afternoon. “Why would you need to? Just walk through the front gate like you own the place, no one’s gonna haul you out on your ass if you get caught.” And then, suspiciously, “You’re _really_ not surprised to see me? At all?”

            My smile widened. “No offense to you. Maybe I just had high expectations of the boy who was brave enough to kiss me in public. Or maybe I’m still dreaming, and you’re only here because I wished you were.”

             His cheeks flushed fiery red, which complemented his hair perfectly. The flecks of gold in his green eyes flashed, and I thought again how sectoral _heterochromia iridis_ on him seemed to be a neon warning sign, telling everybody at first glance to hide anything worth anything. “Whoever said you were the most straightforward one in your band was wrong, then.” Something shifted in his expression, and those eyes narrowed slyly. “Or do you only talk like that to me?”

            “Why, have you been reading up about me? I’m flattered.” And I was. Honest. Though most of it was surprise that he hadn’t already formed an opinion about me as the rest of the world had. All the better, then. Other people’s opinions, be it spoken or written, were easily removed, especially on someone like him, who I suspected did not form opinions easily, and would not change them for anything after they were formed. It was going to be interesting, finding out what he really thought about this side of me even I was unfamiliar with. “But I don’t think that person is mistaken. You should really see the rest of my friends. They’re in a whole different league, I’m afraid.”

            “Yeah, well, it seems that way in the interviews, but I’m pretty sure I know what’s real and what’s pretend.” He smirked at me in a way that made me believe him wholeheartedly, and yet feel the inexplicable urge to challenge that statement anyway, just to see the look on his face when he found out he was wrong. I held myself back, though. Though he put on a great show about not knowing any of us, I knew better than to divulge anything incriminating about TRACK to a boy I had only met twice.

            “As for your second question…” I thought that over. “I wouldn’t say you’re the _only_ one…”

            I let my words fade away, and it became a test of wills. How would he react? How did I want to react? When he remained politely impassive, I knew I wanted more than that. There was an obvious follow-up, an obvious ‘but’ hanging behind that sentence, but I wanted him to ask. It took me half a minute to realize how childish I was being. And how good it felt.

            The silence stretched on, and he stared at me guilelessly with those enchanting eyes, as though curious why I had not completed the sentence. As though he did not know.

            Well, two could play at that game. I ruffled his hair as a doting headmaster would an innocent kindergartener, patted his shoulder and said in a tone to match, “You’d best be off, child. Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble now, would we?”

            “Trouble? Me? As if. I’m a saint.” He laughed, and somehow I found myself grinning with him. Perhaps that was his aim from the start, because the way he looked at me seemed somehow triumphant, and in another display of his trademark utter disregard for rules which I was starting to anticipate, he leaned over to peck me on the cheek before darting off into a thicket of trees. As far as I knew, there was nothing but a solid wall behind it, but I had a feeling I should not doubt him easily.

            “…He still hasn’t told me his name.” For the first time, I wanted to able to search up someone online too. But right now I had to contend myself with his first name, which I’d snuck from eavesdropping on his conversation with another. I could only hope it was enough for Ashley when he calls.


	4. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days you just don't spend alone.

Ever since that day when I’d snuck into his university and gotten home to find a folded piece of paper with what looked like an address on it, I had been filled with something dangerously close to exhilaration.

                “He wants to screw you,” Roger said with a dazed look when I showed it to him.

                I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Why else would anyone give me his house address, to invite me to his birthday party?”

                It had taken more of my self-restraint that I’d liked, but I hadn’t risked staking out the place yet—after all, there was no telling where that man’s eyes were. I knew enough about the layout of the city, though, to figure that it was an okay place, not too fancy but not as bummed-up as my place either. Just the sort of place a college student would stay, I suppose.

                I can’t say I wasn’t a bit disappointed. But then again, even I could tell that Mr Superstar wasn’t really into all that Hollywood glitz and glamor thing. Maybe the best celebrities are the low-key ones. If so, that’d be another list he’d top, no problem.

                The next Saturday, I decided. Probably in the evening. That was when I saw the most college students prowling around, after a long week spent cooped up in the study halls. So I would have to wait… three more days.

                The longest seventy-two hours of my life.

                Don’t ask me, I had no idea why I was so excited either. It’s not like it would be the first time I rendezvoused with a hottie. And trust me, it probably wouldn’t be the last, either. But there was something about that man… There was something crackling in the air around him. Quiet, but dangerous.

                And oh, did I know all about danger.

                Lying on my worn-out, bug-infested bed in the dark of the night, I found myself reading more about him. Watching his interviews. Listening to his songs. There were TRACK songs, and there were Kris Hart songs. I’d never heard of every member in a band having at least one single featured in the album, but somehow I could just imagine that man working that way. And that was how I started researching each of his bandmates in turn.

                Three days later, I was still resting my head on my elbows, playing a fan’s video of a private meeting with the great Kris. She had called him that, just as everyone did. Apparently very few people knew, or used his full name. Anybody on the street was allowed to, _expected_ to, address him as though they’d been pals forever.

                For some reason, that made me scowl.

                In the video, he wasn’t as aloof as he was in the interviews. I’d already figured out his role to play in the band’s image. He was the cool one, the smart one who talked the least but showed the most insight whenever he did open that sexy mouth. He was the sensible one, the one that caught his mates with a Look whenever they went too far with the jokes, and then everyone, even the leader, would clam up and look sorry.

                I didn’t believe one word of that bullshit.

                And here was someone even more deluded than the rest of the world. An obsessed fan who had mailed in the most postcards—mail? postcards? which century was she living in?—and won a dinner with TRACK’s beloved drummer. It mustn’t have been easy—in a popularity contest, Kris ranked second only to that pretty boy singer in the band, something he made a big show of holding over the others’ heads. The number of postcards they received must have hit seven digits, minimum. I couldn’t even find one in all the shops in a ten block radius around my place.

                In the video, that man showed more teeth, was unfailingly polite, playing the part of the perfect gentleman. But I looked closer, pressed pause at times to look into those eyes that had held me on the street with a kiss. And I grinned to myself. I knew that look. Yeah, beat the crap out me, but I’d only met the guy twice and I knew what that look meant.

                He was bored. Whatever he said, however he smiled, he was bored out of his wits sitting there with a blabbermouth fan. Take that, bitch.

                And then I licked my lips. What expression would he wear when he _wasn't_ bored? When he was, say, turned on? I remembered the glint in his eyes before he grabbed me that day. Now, _that_ was something else, something Miss Biggest-Fanwould never get. But what more could he give me?

                There was only one way to find out. I shut the computer, pulled on a threadbare faux fur coat, and headed out into the blizzard.

 

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

                Those were the words he greeted me with coolly on the porch of his little cottage. But after a five mile hike through the freshly-driven snow, nothing could faze me anymore.

                “D-d-do you want us to f-freeze here, o-or are you gonna let me i-in, like a g-good host?”

                “You’re the only one who would freeze, coming out in clothes like that,” he pointed out mildly, but I decided to let him off that one time since he also took my coat and led me into the cozy living area. The first thing I noticed was how my feet sank into the carpet. Must have cost more money than I’d ever seen in my life, but right then I wasn’t bothered with dirtying it. Not when there was a fire awaiting me somewhere.

                The living area wasn’t big, just a few carefully-randomly-chosen chairs, a coffee table and what looked like the dining area right next to it. There wasn't even a TV. But that also meant the fire burning merrily in the fireplace warmed the place right up to the farthest corners. As for me? I was happy enough to slump into the beanbag right in front of the flames.

                I could have easily gone into hibernation there to make up for all the energy I’d lost, but had to look up when he held a steaming cup of coffee above my head.

                “You shouldn’t have come, you know,” he said in the same irritatingly cool voice as I snatched the cup from his hand and drained it in one gulp, savoring even the blisters that formed on my tongue. “It’s nothing short of a blizzard out there. In fact, I didn’t think anyone in their right minds would have even thought about going out.”

                “Well, you’re the one who invited me here,” I snapped, forgetting momentarily that it was I who decided to come on Saturday evening, blizzard or no blizzard. “But if you don’t care for my presence, I’ll see myself right out.”

                I made to get up, but he held me down firmly with one hand on my shoulder. A surprisingly strong grip for an immaculately dressed heartthrob. “Oh, no, as a gracious host, how could I possibly ask my guest to brave such a storm?”

                “You’d already done it once.” I eyed him suspiciously. “You knew I’d come today, didn’t you? No other time made sense for a house visit, not if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking. And the weather’s been getting worse by the day.” It dawned on me. “Was this some kind of test? You invited me out into the storm of the century to _fricking test me?_ ”

                “It could hardly be the storm of the century, and even if it was, thirteen years is a poor way to measure this particular century.” His eyes, icy blue in so many of the pictures online, danced with amusement like the driftwood fire it reflected. “And I would never have thought you would be one to use substitute swear words.”

                Hey, everyone needed a limit they wouldn’t cross, and that there was mine. Not that I was going to tell him that. Not until I’d vented all the anger of an almost-snowman. “You know what? I think I’ll take that storm a hundred times again than spend another minute with you.”

                He smiled. Goddamit, he smiled. And it melted a good half of the freezing cold wrath I’d been harboring since I stepped onto the street and immediately regretted it. “You would not believe how many people think the complete opposite. As such, I feel obliged to hold you here-- against your will, I’m sure—for just a while longer.”

                Before I could say anything else, he cupped my face in his hands, and the warmth that flowed through them sent a shudder down my spine. Not an unpleasant one, too. He raised a perfectly sculptured eyebrow, and I swore that the money he used on cosmetics must have been able to feed a whole continent of starving children. “Is your skin always this cold? It was freezing last time, too.”

                Blood rushed to my face the moment he mentioned ‘last time’, as though to prove a point. “So what if it is?” I snapped. “Thanks to you, I almost froze to death in the streets, so excuse me if my skin isn’t toasty warm right now.”

                He glanced at my coat, so worn it was more holes than cloth. “You seemed perfectly fine off doing that yourself, with or without my help. What I mean is, even though you’re obviously blushing, your face still feels like it just came out of the fridge.”

                And yours feels like you just pulled it out of an oven. But what I said was, “So my circulation’s not that good. Got a problem with that?”

                The corners of his mouth twitched in a way that was completely different from all those ads he had starred in. “Not a problem, per se. I was just… surprised, maybe.”

                “Surprised?” So the man who didn’t even bat an eyelid when I scaled the wall of a world-famous university was taken aback by the fact that I had cold skin. “What’s so surprising about it?”

                He gave it some serious thought. Sometimes I didn’t get this guy. For an alleged genius, he sure was stumped by the oddest things. “Maybe it just seems so different from what I would’ve thought.”

                “What, did you think I was a human fireball or something?”

                Another smile, one that I knew he did not bother sharing with the world in general. “Perhaps. It’s just that you seem so… fiery. And then when I touch you… you’re not.”

                _That_ was not what I’d expected. So much so I let whatever insult he’d hidden there slide. “I could say the same for you. Guess you’re not the ice block I cut you out to be.”

                “Was that supposed to be a joke?” He did look amused, though. One of these days, I told myself, I was going to make him laugh out loud. It was a bigger mystery that what the fox said. “But I suppose I should take that as a compliment, then. Now, I believe you would want to chew on something a little warmer than your fingers?”

                That was when I noticed the banquet spread over the mahogany dining table, and felt the corners of my own mouth lift. “You son of a gun. You were waiting for me, weren’t you? Looking out the window, or at the door, every five seconds to see if I would come.”

                He did not react to my words, and neither had I expected him to. No, he was too good for that. And besides, it wouldn’t be fun if he was that easy to break. Without looking up from the turkey he was carving, he asked in an easily casual tone, “And what makes you say that?”

                “The food’s cold.” I dipped a finger into the soup and licked it. Cream of mushroom. With actual _wild_ mushrooms, not the ones I got out of a can to go with my daily lunch of instant noodles. “And you’ve positioned your chair perfectly so that you can mope around in it and still see what going on outside. Except all you can see now is the blizzard. That’s why you got bored and waited for me on the porch instead.”

                This time he raised both eyebrows. “And how, pray tell, did you get to _that_ conclusion?”

                “I can practically see the impressions your feet made on the carpet. Sometimes, honey, a luxurious carpet isn’t necessarily a good thing.” I didn’t press it further, though. After I regained some feeling in my toes, I realised how famished I was. No point warming myself up if I couldn’t find something else to burn. But before I could dig in, he held my hand, knife in grasp, so tantalizingly close to the turkey.

                “Do you say a prayer or something? Because I don’t,” I said irritably, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand, warm and calloused from always gripping his drumsticks, over mine.

                He looked at me, not so amused any more. There was something else there, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it yet. “Do you even know what day today is?”

                “No, and why does it matter?” I wasn't even looking at him, trying instead to figure what to eat first. There was turkey, pudding, Yule Log…

                Oh.

                “It’s Christmas already?” I asked incredulously.

                He sighed, as though he had completely expected me to forget the date. Which, admittedly, I had. “Yes, it’s Christmas. Or it would be, tomorrow. So before you complain that I had tricked you into spending Christmas Eve with a total stranger, now would be a good time to reconsider.”

                “You’re not a complete stranger,” I reminded him absent-mindedly once the shock of forgetting Christmas subsided. I must have been even more distracted than usual to miss the decorations and festive mood, but Christmas or not, food was food, and this food was getting colder every second we spent talking about the date. “And it’s not like I have anyone else to celebrate with.” Then it struck me. “You don’t, either, do you? For all the fans all over the world professing their undying love for you, you’ve no one to spend Christmas with.”

                He smiled at me, and I finally recognized that look in his eyes. Loneliness. “Amen.”


	5. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter nights aren't quite as cold when you have company.

He came. Even though I could barely see outside the window for the sleet, and it was Christmas Eve, he came.

            I suppose I was pleased. Though even more mystified about how his mind worked.

            Dinner proceeded quietly, and if I had expected any compliments on the feast I had gotten up at 6 in the morning to prepare, I was not getting any. Thankfully, I had not. Still, there was something satisfying about watching someone else finish the food I had made with such gusto, as though he had not eaten properly in days. Perhaps I finally understood why Ryder was into cooking that much.

            “Why aren’t you eating?” He looked up from his pudding to eye me suspiciously. “And don’t stare, it’s not polite.”

            “Isn’t it ironic for you to lecture me about what’s polite and what’s not?” I tucked away my cutlery and took a sip of the red wine Ashley had sent me. A priceless vintage, but then again Ashley never touched any alcohol, so we had all gotten used to taking the bottles everyone else insisted on giving him. “I guess I had sort of ruined my appetite, tasting everything as I cooked.”

            “ _You_ made all of this?” His incredulity was almost offending, if I had not known that it meant he thought the meal was commercial-standard. But even then, he was too stubborn to praise. The silent compliment there was all the more satiating, especially as it came from him.

            Once I had cleared away the dishes, the snow had let up, if just a little. Through it, I could see streetlights flickering on, blurred through the white so that if I pretended, I could pass them off as stars.

            “Pretty, isn’t it? A white Christmas.” He spoke, as though reading my mind. “All the better if you’re not the Little Match Girl.”

            There was a bitterness in his voice, perhaps that of one who had too much experience braving the cold. Something else to keep me intrigued. “Whatever your past Christmases were like, this year you’re my guest. And I fancy myself a somewhat decent host.”

            He looked at me, tilting his head to a side, the melancholy gone like a fleeting dream, replaced by his customary mischief. And just like that, just like every other time I had seen that look, something did a flip in my chest. Could it be that every time I met him, instead of growing immune to his wiles, I would just get more and more hooked?

            It did not bear thinking about.

            “A host, huh?” He smirked, eyes narrowing slyly. Whenever he did that, I was reminded irresistibly of a fox… or perhaps a vixen would fit him better? “Do you ever get tired of this whole gentleman act? Because I’m doing you a favor when I tell you… it’s getting old. Quickly.”

            And then, with his eyes still fixed on mine as though daring me to look away, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, those long fingers dwelling on every bit of skin, ever so tantalizingly… until finally, the shirt fell to his feet, and his lips curved seductively.

            For a moment there, I could have sworn I saw a network of scars over his chest, but when I closed my eyes and opened them again, all I saw was smooth, slightly pale skin. Or maybe… maybe his scars just were not obvious to the naked eye.

            Apparently I had not reacted the way he had anticipated, or had hoped I would. The daring smirk turned into a scowl, and the adult changed back into the child I had met that day on the street, the grown-up mind in a teenager’s body, complete with a kid’s soul. “What, don’t you like what you see?”

            Tempted as I was to say no, I decided against angering him until the snow had subsided a bit more. Especially now that he was half-naked. “It’s nothing like that, trust me. It’s just… I suppose you would call it déjà vu. You simply reminded me a little of someone else I know.”

            I should have known, even before I had opened my mouth, that it was precisely the wrong thing to tell someone as vain, and yet at the same time as fragile as he was. The scowl deepened, his expression darkened, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop at least ten degrees. “Oh? And who’s that? An ex-lover?”

            An ex… I burst out laughing, even though I knew it would only offend him further, and try as I may, I could not stop. Faced with this boy, I felt dumber, slower than I ever had since I was certified a genius at the age of four. My mind could not catch up with my words, my actions. My feelings. The feelings that the sight of him brought up.

            “ _What’s so funny?_ ”

            His tone had turned dangerously quiet, and I decided not to risk it any more. Time for the truth. “I don’t know which of you I’m insulting more by saying this, but you remind me of Ashley. Know who that is?”

            “Of course I do. He’s the main singer in your band, right?” Though I had complete confidence he had never heard of Ashley before meeting me, the hint of wistfulness in his eyes was very much real. Was he… hurt? “They call him the Angel… And yeah, he _is_ kinda pretty.”

            “Pretty? Ashe is beautiful.” The flecks of gold in his eyes glinted. Yes, he was definitely hurt. I had to resist the urge to grin... or hug him. “But you haven’t heard the rest of my sentence.” Before he could say anything and break my stride, I moved over behind him and ran my fingers down his back. Where Ashley’s had been ridden with scars he had desperately tried to hide, Sydney’s was smooth and… cold. His hair, now let down, was longer than I had thought, and when I ran my fingers through it, it was even softer than I had dreamed. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I kissed the gossamer threads that had been the best Christmas present I had received this year.

            “But to me, he doesn’t hold a candle to you. And before you get any funny ideas, like ditching me for him, I have to warn you his girlfriend is a rather accomplished policewoman.”

            “I-is that so?” His face was turned away from me, but I could feel a bit more heat from his bare back. Perhaps someday, I could make his skin as warm as the fire we stood before? “But why would I remind you of him, then? From what I know of him, we’re nothing similar.”

            “What _do_ you know of him, actually?” I asked lightly, so that he would know there was no accusation in my voice. “What you read online? Well, that would be about right. He never put on any airs, never pretended. He was the _real_ gentleman, always considerate, always putting everyone else’s happiness before his own.”

            “Which just proves my point that we’ve nothing alike.”

            “Perhaps.” I hesitated. On the tip of my tongue was a secret the paparazzi would pay an arm and a leg to learn. But I should have learned that when Sydney was asking the questions, there was nothing I would not tell. Before my mind made a decision, the words had already left my lips. “Ashley wasn't always Ashley. Long before I met him, he had been a child prostitute. The day he decided to come clean with us, he took off his shirt, just like you did, and told us everything calmly. I remembered looking at his bare back, trying to count the countless scars, wondering how many times he had taken off his shirt just like that, and how many men had touched him there, then left their own mark as a sign of conquest. And I remembered how sick that made me feel.”

            How had I expected Sydney to react? Back then, anyone who knew Ashley’s secret would look at him differently. Even the four of us, though I like to think we did a better job of hiding it than everyone else. He hated it, we knew, hated any of his precious friends being reminded of the person he had been, and forgetting the person he was now. That was why we swore a silent oath to never tell it to anyone he did not tell himself.

            An oath I had just broken.

            “…I still don’t see how we’re alike.” Whatever I had expected, that was definitely not it. Sydney shrugged, sending more fine hairs tumbling down his shoulders, and said nonchalantly, “Sure, I’m no virgin myself, but everything I did was out of my own free will. All that happened to him? Happens all the time, only the victims don’t end up internationally-acclaimed superstars. Most I know, they grow up pretty messed up. I don’t pretend to know that Ashley you’re so fond of, but I’d say he did pretty well for himself. In fact, he sounds like a saint.”

            I smiled faintly. “Many people couldn’t agree more.”

            “Right. And next to Saint Ashley, I’m… what? The devil’s spawn?” He glanced over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue at me. Funny, I had never noticed the piercing there before. “If you’re looking for another angel, honey, you’re barking up the wrong tree. In the wrong forest, too.”

            “Then I’m glad I’m not.” It seems that this boy would never stop surprising me, with the way he casually exceeds my expectations every time I try to test him. Pulling him closer, I pressed my face into his hair and breathed in deeply. He smelled like… crushed pine, and freshly driven snow. “I think I prefer a bit of spice in my life, you know? Ashe is so perfect… sometimes it gets boring.”

            He laughed, and I liked the way the way his hair tickled my nose when he did. “You had better behave yourself then, Mr Superstar, because if you make me angry again, I might just tell Saint Ashley that and see how he takes it.”

            “Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that,” I assured him, a little dazedly. “He’ll just give you that saddest, most hurt puppy-dog look until you feel like you could drown in guilt.”

            “Yeah, well, I’d like to see him try.” There it was again, that smugness in his voice that sounded so childish yet hid the confidence of an adult. If there was anyone capable of standing up to Ashley’s charms, it would be this one.

            “One day I’ll introduce you,” I decided, trying not to think about the look on Ryder’s face if I did. “I’m sure Ashe would like you, too. You might wanna stay away from that girlfriend of his, though. Like I said, she can smell trouble from a mile away.”

            “Trouble? Me?” he purred. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            I smiled. “Of course you don’t.” On cue, the antique clock on my mantelpiece struck twelve. Time had not passed this quickly for me since the day TRACK decided to go on hiatus.

            He must have noticed it, too, because he tensed, ever so slightly, under my touch. And then he relaxed again, until I had to grab him before he slumped onto the ground. Half-leaning in my arms, he looked up at me mischievously, eyes narrowing into slits. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

            “Yes, it sure is.” Before he could protest, I lifted him, bridal-style, upstairs and into my room. Sparing a moment to wonder what was on his mind then, I dropped him onto my bed, and then headed straight for my closet to pull out the thickest blankets and shirts I had.

            “What do you need clothes for?” he asked, sounding frustrated. Thankfully, the room was too dark for him to see me grin to myself, and by the time I poured an avalanche of wool onto him, my face was already carefully blank.

            “These will help keep you warm. I’ll turn the heater up, too, if it helps. Sorry, Cinderella, the clock has struck midnight, but I can’t let you go just yet.” I peeked out of the window. The blizzard was letting up, but the snow on the ground must be a solid two feet thick by now. And seeing how easily he was buried in the blankets, he would not stand a chance out there.

            “Where are you going?” His voice was muffled as he struggled with the covers, and I let him at it for a while before lifting the heavier ones off him. As he resurfaced with a gasp of air, I could not help but notice, under a shaft of moonlight shining through the blinds on my window, his face was even more flushed and his hair was adorably messy as he pouted at me.

            “To sleep on the couch, of course,” I said casually. “Trying to be a good host here, remember? So you just be good until morning, and who knows? Maybe Santa might just drop you a visit.”

           “Who needs Santa, anyway?” A cloud drifted across the moon, and his expression shifted. Scrambling up to me, he held his face just inches from mine, and drawled, “I got you, don’t I? Let’s make this a Christmas that even Santa would be jealous of.”

            “Tsk-tsk. You’re naughtier than I thought.” None too gently I pushed him back into bed, picked out one of the lighter blankets and turned away from him. When I was sure he would not follow me—I could just imagine the pout on his face—I paused at the doorway. “Where’s the fun if we tear open the presents like a bunch of kids? It’s much better to savor the suspense, don’t you think? Enjoy it while it lasts, and make it last.”

            With that, I closed the door carefully behind me, returned to the fireplace and camped out in one of more comfortable chairs there. Somehow, even though the fire was dying, I did not feel quite as cold as I had this morning.


	6. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of one thing means the end of another...

A week after Christmas, school reopened. And for the first time in months, I decided to grace it with my presence.

                My fellow schoolmates had gotten noisier since I had seen them last. Everywhere I went, they would stop whatever they were talking about to whisper in even louder voices about me. The words went right over my head, of course—I didn’t survive this long by caring what other people thought about me—but the noise was becoming seriously annoying.

                I pulled my hoodie over my head, and turned up the volume on my iPod.

                “…Syd! Hey, Syd!”

                When I couldn’t ignore the yells any longer, I hit pause and impatiently addressed the guy who didn’t seem to understand what everyone else could read in my body language—‘Caution: wild animal. Do not disturb.’ And he was supposed to be one of my pitifully few friends.

                “What is it, Roger? Well, whatever it is, make it short.”

                “Gonna skip out on me again?” Roger tried to look hurt, but it wasn’t working and he knew it, so he gave up. “I was wondering why you bothered to come in the first place. You high, or something?”

                I wasn't high, at least not now, so it must’ve been the ‘something’. To hell with it if I was going to tell him what the ‘something’ was, though. I was still in denial about it, anyway. Unfortunately, being in denial didn’t stop my hands from packing my bag, or my feet from leading me here.

                “Nice jacket, by the way. Did you steal it? How come you didn’t call me?”

                I pulled my hoodie even lower and tried to slip away, but too late, a hand had already gripped my shoulder. On the bright side, Roger had gone abruptly quiet, but on the not-so-bright side, that gave me a pretty clear idea of who it was I was dealing with now.

                “Into my office, young man. Now.”

                I scowled. What the hell had possessed me to come to school again?

                The principal’s office was as familiar a place to me as any. A few years ago, I realized I was going to be spending more time in here than in class, so I wisely chose to skip both. It was not as though it was doing me any good. The counselors had long written me off as a lost cause, and the principal was hardly going to succeed where they failed. Credit where credit was due, it would not be for a lack of effort, though.

                “It’s been a while, Mr…” He winced a little at the last name I had provided. Not only was it obviously fake, it was also pretty much unpronounceable.  Luckily he was not dumb enough to try. “…Sydney. Where have you been?”

                “Oh, it’s none of your concern, sir,” I said as pleasantly as I could, though when I wasn't talking I was gritting my teeth. “Just sightseeing, I guess. Enjoying life.”

                “Kids your age should be studying.”

                “Guess I’m not the studious type, then.” I tried to stand, but he held me down firmly, and I was reminded of that Christmas Eve in front of the fireplace again. It was enough to help me keep my temper, at least for now. “In fact, I was just leaving. If you would just let me go, it would really spare both of us the trouble. What d’you say?”

                He looked at me, just like all the other adults who knew me would look at me, with pity and disgust. That is, all the adults except _that_ man. “This is not trouble, young man. It’s my responsibility to help educate you, just as it is your responsibility to be educated.”

                “I can survive perfectly fine without an education, thank you very much.” Even as my mouth formed the words, my mind was reminding me of the reason I had gone against all logic to come here. But between that and listening to anymore ‘it’s for your own good’ speeches, the winner was getting clearer by the minute.

                “…At the very least, it is my duty as an educator to stop you from doing even more wrong than you already have, since you don’t have any guardians to help you there.”

                I froze. “What do you mean?”

                And don’t look at me like that, with that false sadness, as though you actually care what happens to me!

                “What I mean is, I overheard your conversation in the hall just now with your friend Mr Zhong. He mentioned something… about stolen goods?”

                He had walked over to my back, and was now fingering the fur lining on my hoodie. The feeling of his grizzled fingers so close to my face made me flinch, and I regretted the show of weakness immediately.

                “Get your hands--”

                “That’s enough, Mr Moran. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get so close to my charge over here. And before you throw around any accusations, I gave him that jacket. As a Christmas present.”

                That voice… whatever blood that had drained away from my face when the principal mentioned the jacket rushed right back, until I felt almost dizzy. “W-what are you doing here?”

                The principal had backed away quite wisely, and now I had a perfect view of Kris Hart’s infamous poker face. “What do you mean, Syd?” he said easily, as though he really was my long-lost relative or something. “I’m here to clear things up with the school, so you can start studying again. Wasn’t that what you told me you wanted?”

                No, it most definitely wasn’t. But I wasn’t one to look the gift horse in the mouth, so I decided to keep quiet for now, and see how they deal with it.

                Because trust me, the principal wasn't going to be fooled for a second. He knew who I was, they all did. So he would know perfectly well that I would not have any guardians, especially none as well-known as Kris Hart from TRACK.

                “Yes, yes, of course, I’m terribly sorry for the misunderstanding… But I must say I’m glad young Sydney finally has someone to care about him…”

                Wait, what? My head snapped up. Surely he’s not serious? But he sure didn’t look like he was kidding…

                “It’s no problem, Sydney really is a joy to be around…”

                At this blatant lie, even the principal’s plastered smile twitched a little. I kicked Kris under the table, but he didn’t even wince. This guy was tougher than I thought.

                “Well, young man, here’s your timetable for the day, though you might be too late for your first class…”

                “Is that so?” Kris had the nerve to sound disappointed on my behalf. “I shall personally make sure he gets to the next class in time, then. Thank you again for your concern, Mr Moran.”

                “W-why, of course, it was my pleasure.” Maybe the fact that one of his students’ most beloved idols was in his office had finally sunk into the principal’s head, because the hand he offered to Kris seemed just a tad shaky. Or maybe he was just imagining the riot it might cause if word got out that TRACK’s drummer was here on school grounds.

                I found myself grinning at the idea.

                “…So you’re still wearing that?”

                Once we were out onto the school grounds and out of earshot, he asked me casually, as though his eyes had not lit up when he first saw me in the jacket he had left for me that Christmas morning.

                “What can I do? You threw away my old one.” No love lost there, though. “And I just _knew_ you weren’t sleeping then. Next time I’ll just let you freeze to death!”

                “Oh, yes, about that. It was very touching for you to put the blanket back on for me, even though you knew I wasn’t actually asleep.” He looked like he was just about to burst out laughing, and I heard a collective gasp from the classes nearby. Looks like Mr Superstar was already turning a few heads. Let’s see the teachers try to get anything done like that.

                “Before you ask, I’m not going to cause a riot for you. Your principal was right, you know. You should get back to studying, so you can have a proper future.”

                “A proper future?” I didn’t like the resentment in my voice, but there it was. “There’s no such thing as a proper future for someone like me.”

                “I won’t press it if you don’t want to tell me.”

                I looked at him closely again, and found nothing but sincerity. Ah, well. He had told me his friend’s secret, and the way he had said it obviously showed that it meant more to him than whatever skeletons he had in his own closet. The least I could do was repay him in kind.

                “Remember that whole fuss, a few years ago, about human sacrifice rituals going on in the backstreets of London? And how kids were brought in from all over just to die for some ridiculous myth?” I pointed at myself, and said breezily, “I was one of them. Only, I was luckier than others.

                “The police raided the underground church they were gonna kill me in, and once I’d calmed down enough, they made me give up the names of the people who’d brought me here. Thanks to me, a lot of them are behind bars now. As you can imagine, that didn’t exactly endear me to their families.

                “They tried putting me in the witness protection program, but that felt too much like the cage I’d been kept in before they found me. So I told them to lay off, that I can fend for myself, and besides, maybe my enemies had already forgotten about me.” My voice cracked, but he acted as though he hadn’t noticed, so I took a deep breath and ploughed on.

               “Everybody else hasn’t, though. Everywhere I go, everybody knows. I’m the kid that was supposed to be sacrificed, but wasn’t. Some people treat me like I’m dirty, but worse still are those that treat me like I’m holy. Don’t they see that I’m none of that? I’m just a kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now I’m trying to forget about all of it. But I can’t. Because they won’t let me.”

                I couldn’t find the words to continue, and finally he spoke. “I know what it’s like to be judged by people I don’t even know.”

                That was an understatement, and I had to smile at it. “As a superstar, or as a genius?”

                “Both.” He paused. “I know what it’s like to be alone, too. My parents disowned me after I ditched Harvard to join a boyband.”

                I nodded, but honestly, I wasn't even bothered. My own parents had sold me to a cult, not for the money, but because they believed it was _an honor_. I hadn’t seen them since. It was probably better for them to think that their son had died _honorably_ than lived on in shame. “So that’s why you’re here? To be a good guy and take care of me like everyone else wants to?”

                “Take care of you? Now why would I do that?” Amusement melted those ice blue eyes, and I was fairly sure some girls in the class behind us fainted. “I know better than anyone that you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

                If there was one thing I hated more than people feeling sorry for me, it was people lying to my face. “Cut the crap. You left me the coat. You came to my school.”

                “About that. I just want to say I think it’s wonderfully brave of you to return to school--”

                “—I did it because of you!” I nearly screamed it in his face, but instead I gripped my fist so tightly my nails dug into my palm, drawing blood. “I did it because I couldn’t stand the idea of you looking down on me, pitying me like you’re doing now— _I don’t need your damn pity!_ ”

                “I know that. I’m not pitying you.” Without warning, he swept me into his arms and held me tightly. Whatever the reaction of the school’s gossip group was, I would never know, because all I could sense was the feeling of him around me, all I could see was his broad chest, all I could hear was the sound of his pounding heart…

                “Then what? What do you want from me?”

               My voice was thick with emotion, and I hated myself for it, but I wouldn’t let the tears flow. He took one look at me, at the mess I’d become… and laughed.

                “Are you still stung because I rejected your offer that day? Silly boy. You had no idea how hard it was for me not to take you up on it. But I just thought you deserved something more.”

                He held me at arm’s length from him, and though I wanted to dive back into his embrace I held myself, so I could see directly into his eyes and know for sure what he was feeling. All I saw there… was warmth.

                “Why don’t you give us both a chance? Who knows, things might turn out better than you’d think.”

                And suddenly, I was curious. “You’re the genius here, how do _you_ think we’ll end up?”

                “I don’t know,” he admitted, and I knew he was telling the truth. “When I’m around you, nothing makes sense, and yet everything does. I’m guessing that’s a good sign, though.”

                “…Yeah. Probably.” I hesitated. “Are you sure it’s okay for your image to be dating me?”

                He smiled at me, pulled out his phone, hit speed dial and almost immediately began to talk. “Hey, Tyr. I’m standing in a high school now, about to kiss a sixteen-year-old boy in full view of all the students here. Sound okay to you? …I’ll deal with Ryder later. Yes, I’m serious. When am I ever _not_ serious? …And you know it. Thanks, mate.”

                It took all of ten seconds. Then he hung up, grabbed me again, and kissed me passionately, right there on school grounds.

                And that was how it all began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Part 1... and it only gets longer from here :3


	7. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A life like this... might not be so hard to get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of Part 2 brings a new stage of their lives~

To say I was a total novice at romance was an exaggeration. I had dated a couple of times before, it just never ended well. The fact that I was never unduly bothered by it ending was probably a good indicator of why.

            This time, however—

            “Who’s—Oh, it’s you.” Sydney opened the door, looking adorable with reading glasses, a pencil behind his ear, and his hair tied into a loop at the back of his head. “What are you doing here? You know what, I’m not even gonna bother asking how you found out where I live…”

            He mumbled the last part to himself but seeing as he left the door open for me, I took that for an invitation. His apartment was just as I had imagined it—cramp, chaotic, and smelled like him.

            “Watch out over there,” he called over his shoulder. “There’s a hole in the floorboards, be careful not to--”

            _Crash._ My foot sank into the wood, and splinters pierced my leg through my socks.

            I raised an eyebrow. “Have you thought of repairs?”

            “Waste of time,” he shrugged, grabbing my arm and yanking me out. “All the wood is half-rotten anyway. Thanks to the rainy season and the leaks.” As though to prove his point, I felt a drop of water land on my nose.

            “Damn, there it goes again…” He cursed darkly under his breath, pushing me onto his bed and stomping into the attached kitchen to find a bucket and bandages. The former he set firmly over the hole I had just enlarged, and with the latter he began working on my scratches.

            Again I was reminded of Ashley, but once he was done, leaning back to eye his handiwork, the illusion was shattered. While Ashley was an expert with all sorts of injuries, Sydney’s bandages were clumsily done… and, oh so cute.

            “H-hey, what are you laughing at?!” In retaliation, he poked me again with the splinters he had just pulled out, his face flushing red. “Besides, you haven’t answered my question yet. Why the sudden visit?” He pouted. “And don’t you tell me you came here just to laugh at me…”

            “Of course not.” But really… why indeed? I shrugged. “You haven’t come to see me for so long… I guess I just missed you.”

            It was the first thing I could think of, and so it was probably the truth. Even so, I had not expected Sydney to react as he did—the color on his face deepened to what could only be described as scarlet, and before I could ask he threw a pillow at me.

            “D-don’t say things like that with a straight face!”

            “Why not?” I asked, with all the innocence I could fake. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? Oh, I was worried about you too, since you stopped coming over every two days--”

            “I-I can survive perfectly well on my own, thank you very much!” he snapped back, though looking at that face I could not find it in me to feel even the slightest bit offended. “And—and I’m not a stalker! If you want to see me, then you can come to me!”

            “That’s why I have.” I lay down on my stomach and propped my head on my hands, watching him with a crafty smile. “It’s okay, you can pretend I’m not here. Just continue whatever you were doing before I so rudely barged into your privacy.”

            “You don’t have to tell me that.” He stuck his tongue out at me, and settled back behind a table beside the bed. The lights overhead flickered with every strike of lightning that illuminated the dark sky outside his grimy windows, and finally he turned them off with a sigh, lighting an oil lamp instead.

            It was as though I was seeing a portal into the past, or a beautiful portrait of every starving artist to have ever graced the streets of London. And I could not tear my eyes away.

            He sat with his back to me, so it was obvious to me how tense he was. What was he doing? Was it that hard? Perhaps I should offer to help… but with his sense of pride, I might just end up insulting him…

           When at last I could not bear to watch him struggle any longer and opened my mouth to inquire, he beat me to it. Without turning around, he spoke. “Hey… aren’t you bored like that? You can leave any time you want to, you know.”

            I tilted my head to a side, even though I knew perfectly well he could not see me. “Bored? No, I am fine just being able to watch you like this.”

            “…Pervert.” The back of his ears were now around the same shade as his hair. “Are you like this with everyone?”

            “What do you mean? I’m just being honest.”

            “Don’t play dumb with me,” he grumbled. “You’ve never ‘ _just_ been honest’. And you’re never this direct with your words, anyway.”

            “I thought you didn’t like the way I minced words?” I teased, thoroughly enjoying myself now. The fact that I could beat him at almost every disagreement we had had always bothered him, I knew, but at the same time I could see he was exhilarated to have someone who could talk to him as an equal. “Now I’m being straight with you, if you would pardon the pun.”

            “You know what? I’m not in the mood now. Just stay there, and be quiet. …And you can look at me for as long as you want.”

            I smiled. “Sure.”

            The minutes ticked past as we sat there in the silence, and I counted exactly five minutes and 53 seconds before he burst out, “Say something!”

            “Why? I don’t want to disturb you.”

            “This stupid silence is disturbing me even more, and you know it!”

            “How about some music, then?”

            “ _No. Music._ ” He squeezed the words out of clenched teeth, finally throwing his hands up and his head back in surrender. Our gazes met, his hair brushing the floor from where he had bent himself over the back of his chair. And before I could respond, his eyes narrowed in the way I knew too well.

            _Oh, no._

            “You’re looking mighty comfy on my bed there,” he smirked. “Mind if I join you?”

            _Oh, no, you’re not._

            “Don’t you have work to do?” I asked as calmly as I could. “As the responsible adult, I will not let you use me as an excuse to skip out on your homework.”

            “Argh, but what point is there for me to learn algebra anyway?” He pulled his hair in frustration, and I had to force myself to keep my expression solemn.

            “Since you resolved to go back to school, you should at least try your best to perform well.”

           “Easy for you to say! I’ve never gone to school for more than three days in a row before! And don’t you forget, I’m only doing that now for you!”

            Something twisted in my chest, though not unpleasantly. How could I forget? This boy, this wild child was trying to tame himself… for me. Just the thought made me want to take his face in my hands… and maybe something more. But I mustn’t. Right now, we had more serious matters to attend to.

            I sat up on the bed next to him, since there did not seem to be another chair in sight. “Tell me which parts you don’t understand.”

            “Everything.” And then he eyed me suspiciously. “What’s this, is the great genius giving me tuition now? What’s the catch?”

            “There _is_ no catch,” I explained patiently, with the nagging feeling that it was a tone I would be using more than once tonight. “Since you’re working so hard for my sake, I think it only natural that I help you out where I can.”

            “Who said anything about it being for your sake?” he objected stubbornly, but then the gold in his eyes glinted. “Now, there’s no way in hell you’re going to trick me into owing you one, so after we’re done, you’re have to let me repay you, okay? Until I’m sure we’re quits.”

            I could not help but notice the terms he offered included him being the one who decided when we were even. But then again if he really was going to keep his side of the deal and finish his work like a good boy, there was no reason why I should not give him a reward or two.

            “Deal.”

 

As I expected, he had a lot of homework to catch up on, and by the time we were done, the sun had risen into a clear blue sky.

            In the hours since we agreed on the compromise, I had helped him with not only algebra, but also chemistry, social science and world history. Along the way, I had made a few conclusions: He was bright, but lazy. Problems appealed to him, but set them too easy, and he would lose interest; set them too hard, and his frustration would make him refuse to look at them altogether. He had little patience for history, either, unless it involved scandals and strategies, preferably both. All in all, he was a difficult student. If it had been anyone else, I would have walked out and slammed the door in half an hour.

            But it was Sydney, and so I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

            “…And, that’s the last of it.” I closed the last book, tired but satisfied. Now was my turn to fulfill my end of the bargain—

            --But he had fallen contentedly asleep, sprawled onto the table with a small smile like a housecat in front of the fire.

            I almost burst out laughing, and had to press my hand to my mouth to stop myself from waking him. Silly boy… but it was no good for him to sleep like that. Carefully, gently, I lifted him from the chair onto the bed, removed his glasses and let his hair down. Thankfully he was wearing loose, comfortable clothes—I knew very well the consequences of sleeping the night away in jeans, and it was far from worth saving the trouble of changing out the night before.

            The covers were tangled in a bunch at the foot of his bed, and I tsk-tsked to myself as I sorted them out. Were they always like this? No wonder his hands were always so cold… As I thought that to myself, I could not help but glance over at his sleeping face. Asleep, he really did look like any other sixteen-year-old, young and innocent and too beautiful for his own good.

            His skin was cold, as usual—I rested my forehead against his, remembering how he had once said the warmth of my touch did not match the coolness of my actions. Did he still think like that? Ever since we started going out, I had been feeling as though I was carrying a torch in my chest, scorching hot and blindingly bright. Tyr had noticed my change immediately when he had visited last week—hell, even Ashley said something was different the last time I spoke to him over the phone.

            I wonder… what did Sydney think of me now?

            “…I love you.” Quietly saying the words I could never tell him when he was awake, I pressed my lips to his forehead—but when I pulled away, I found his eyes wide open and dancing with something I could not quite identify. Happiness? Triumph? Or was it--?

            “…Idiot.” Before I could make sure, he pulled me into bed next to him. His arms were still cold, but as he held me I was certain I felt them warming up, absorbing my heat and making it his own. “Stay. You promised.”

            “…Okay.”

            And with that he fell asleep again, smiling contentedly with his head on my chest and his arms around my shoulders.


	8. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you yourself are miles away from normal, you can't expect anything around you to stay normal either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this when the chapters start getting longer... Should I split them before posting?

I hadn’t been to school for so long, I’d forgotten what it was like.

                There was the homework, of course. The assignments. Honestly, those weren’t too bad since Kris bravely volunteered himself as my tutor. At first, I tried to make things hard for him—after all, he was the reason I had to go through all this torture. He should have to suffer a bit, too.

                But after a few assignments I began to notice things. Under the pretext of studying, he would come over practically every night, and then wear me out with maths so he could cuddle me safely for the rest of the night. And every morning he looked exhausted as hell, the bags under his eyes growing deeper with every visit, guilting me into making him breakfast and coffee.

                I hadn’t thought it was possible to look so absolutely drained, and yet so completely happy. It made me feel a little cheated.

                And then there were the people. The teachers. Schoolmates. Can’t say much for the former. In fact, I don’t think I’ve changed at all in their eyes. Still the same troublemaker, still the same troubled kid they can’t ever bring themselves to scold. Of course, there are the scornful ones, too. They’re easier to ignore. Scratch that, they’re _fun_ to ignore. But there was only so much pissing off teachers I could pull off before getting bored of it.

                The schoolmates, though… I hadn’t been dealing with people my age much recently. Since when had they become so… different? There were those who squealed over me because I knew Kris. There were those who hated my guts because I was dating Kris. Those I still get. But after a while… there were those who squealed over me because…. well, I’m me.

                The first time someone asked me for my autograph, I looked at her like she was high. Except I knew there was no way a goody-two-shoes like her would ever get the stuff.

                And then—they _multiplied._ Like _rabbits._

                One day I just walked into class and a whole bunch of girls started shrieking. I almost jumped, thinking I had maybe brought in a shooter or something without noticing. By the time I had calmed down enough to understand what they were screaming, I was so weirded out I could have freaked again—they were all hyper because I _braided my hair._

                What the hell?

                I sat down, still looking at them as though they were nuts, and all they did was squeal louder and huddle away. Okay, so maybe they didn’t like me looking at them—I’d gotten into too many fights not to know how to accept that some people were just odd that way. But that theory was kinda blown out of the water when the recess bell rang. I was taking out my boxed lunch when one girl was shoved in front of me, stammering and blushing as red as the carrots I had brought—to ask me how I had done my hair up so nicely.

                What the freaking hell?

                So I told them the truth. That Kris had done it for me. And they nearly fainted. Just like that.

                I would never understand girls.

                “Get this. Word on the street is that you have a _fan club_ now. You hear that, Syd? _A fan club!_ ”

                “I heard you perfectly the first time,” I snapped at Roger, falling back to lie on the wet grass. I could feel the weeds entangling in my hair, and knew that Kris would give me hell for that later, but right now I just didn’t care. “What have they been smoking? They know perfectly well I’m gay!”

                “Of course they do, or else they’d have confessed to you by now,” Roger said all knowingly-like. As if he’d ever been confessed to his whole life. “Right now they’re just happy to see you from afar. Maybe have you glare at them once in a while. Be in the same class as you. The like.”

                “…That’s sick.”

                He laughed. “And that’s rich, coming from you. The way that mind of yours works… Are you completely sure you’re human?”

                “Probably not.” I plucked a dandelion and blew off its seeds. “Because that guy isn’t, and he gets me just fine.”

                “Don’t go bragging now. I know you’ve found your soul mate and all, but not all of us are that lucky.”

                Soul mate, huh…? I had never thought of it that way. It was true he understood like no one ever had. And I didn’t understand him like I did everyone else. Still wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a good thing, but at least he was still different from the world in general, in my eyes. That had to count for something, right…?

                “Shit, it looks like your fan club’s found us!”

                I didn’t even have the time to swear—just pulled Roger by the collar and skedaddled. But every corner I turned, I could still hear that ominous giggling, like the sound of Death sharpening his scythe…

 

“Isn’t that a good thing? You’re popular with the girls.”

                I should have known better, but I grumbled about it to Kris anyway. And his answer was everything I expected, even as I tried to cope with the sight of him in an apron, scrambling eggs.

                “It’s not funny, you know! Wait, you would know how to deal with it—you’ve got tons of fans! Quick, tell me, how do you get rid of them?”

                 “I don’t.” Kris slid the eggs onto my plate, sounding amused. They looked more like chopped-up omelet, but I wasn't about to complain. A few weeks ago, all he could manage was to burn the rice. Not that he was a bad cook. He just wasn’t good with a gas stove. “I’m a superstar, remember? Even when I have to chase away stalkers, I have to do it in a way that they’ll rant about it and make me even more fans. I could teach you _that,_ if you insist—”

                _“Heck no!_ ” Or at least that was what I was trying to say. With my mouth full, it probably came off sounding less polite. So I swallowed my breakfast without chewing it as much as I should’ve, and choked for a while before repeating my stand firmly. “That’s that last thing I need!”

                “Glad to hear that.” While I had been busy trying to breathe, he had managed to sneak around me, and now hugged me tightly from behind. “It’s a bit embarrassing to say this, but I was almost jealous when you said you had all these fans…”

                “If you know it’s embarrassing, don’t say it!”

                “But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? By telling me that, you were _hoping_ I’d get jealous, and then jump out to claim you—you were trying to seduce me, weren’t you?”

                “ _I was not!”_

                And by the time I’d dragged my feet into class that day, I still hadn’t convinced him of that. On the other hand, if I had been any slower in leaving for school, he would probably have convinced _me_ that I had been lying to myself, and somewhere deep in my subconscious, I’d actually—

                Damn that bastard!

                “—Sydney looks upset today--”

                “—he’s so adorable--”

                “—Look! He’s blushing!”

                “Aaaaah!”

                I had just only managed to walk past them when the chorus of shrieking finally snapped the last straw. Wheeling back around, I practically yelled,

                “Would you just cut that out? It’s seriously freaky!”

                Unfortunately, the message didn’t seem to have gotten across.

                “He’s looking at us!”

                “He’s _talking_ to us!”

                “Hold me, I feel dizzy--”

                I was about to flip the table when I felt a hand grip my shoulder. And not one of those pretty manicured ones, either. This was a man’s hand, through and through. A footballer, I’d hazard a guess. And you wouldn’t believe how relieved that made me feel. Finally—normalcy.

                “Hey, pretty boy.”

                “Yeah?” I wiped the scowl off my face, and turned to face my classmate with what Kris called my ‘succubus smile’. After some reflecting, I finally concluded that there were only a few reactions to this smirk, and based on their reaction, I could deal with practically anyone.

                For example, when Kris saw this smile, he would get all amused, like Santa looking at a naughty kid. And then he’d punish me for it, most often by denying me what I knew both of us wanted. But that’s only because that guy has superhuman self-control. As for the rest of them mortals--

                My classmate looked at me with something like disgust, as though I was dog crap on the sidewalk.

                Ah, this type. My lips curved wider. You know what—this might come in handy.

                “Sorry, but I can’t seem to remember your name.” I pretended to trip over a chair, throwing myself onto his chest. The muscle underneath the thin cotton shirt felt strong and supple. He was a good head taller than me too, so I could tilt my face up and give him the full force of my succubus smile. “Have we ever been introduced?”

                “G-get away from me, faggot!” He tried to shove me away, but I would never know if those rippling muscles were as impressive as they looked. They sure weren’t fast enough to catch me, as I swung around behind him, and held him as Kris had held me just that morning.

                Speaking of Kris—how would he react if he saw me now? I nearly giggled at the idea.

                “Your name is… Brett, right? You’re cute.” I ran my fingers down his spine, and had the pleasure of feeling cold sweat drench his shirt. “I hear you’re good with the girls, but really… what’s so fun about them? Now, if you want some real fun…”

                The squealing had died down to a shocked silence. Or so I thought. Just as I was feeling cocky about finally shutting them up, a blinking light caught my attention.

                They had all gone suddenly mute because one of them was _filming_ this.

                “You’re crazy!” Brett stole the words from my mouth, breaking away from me and then swinging his heavy fist around. Had to give the guy some credit, it looked strong—nothing I hadn’t taken before, though. Hmm… should I just take it? By the looks and sound of it, take it in the face and it’d definitely leave a bruise—

                If I went home all beaten up, how would Kris react? Would he be mad? Upset? Or would he call my bluff and find it funny? Wait, he could very well call my bluff, and still be mad and upset—

                How intriguing.

                I could have easily dodged in the time I had spent thinking, but since I decided to take the hit anyway, it didn’t matter. Instead of bracing for impact, I used up my remaining time forcing a terrified expression—

                “Lay off him!”

                “Don’t you dare, Brett!”

                “Someone, call the teacher!”

                A swarm of girls dived to my rescue, pinning down the quarterback. And the ones on top looked at me worriedly.

                “Are you okay, Sydney?”

                --I think I’m the only one who is.

                “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

                --I attacked him first.

                “Don’t worry, we’ll report this to Mr Moran. Or wait, would you rather us not?”

                --I don’t know. Can I report you girls?

                You know what…? I give up. You psychos win.

                So for the rest of the day, I pulled up my hood up, and let a bunch of beat-up girls follow me protectively everywhere I went.

 

That more or less continued for another week or so, and I’m proud to say I didn’t breathe a word of it to Kris. Yup, not one word. Not even a syllable. Because I know what he’d say. Not much, unless he can find a way to breathe through all that laughing.

                But then there came the final straw.

                “No. Nada. Nilch. _Never!_ ”

                The president of my fan club also happened to be the president of the Drama Club. Somehow, that was not as surprising as it should have been. I could totally see it in the way her eyes sparkled as she thrust the colorful poster in my face.

                “But we’d already posted the flyers!”

                “No!”

                “It’ll be huge! The whole city’ll know about it!”

                “Even more no!”

                “Parents can come--!”

                “I don’t have parents!”

                “—and so can boyfriends!”

                I was just a second slower in replying, and she jumped on it. These fans… dammit, I should never have let them come so close!

                “It’s settled, then! You’re our lead, and I’ll throw in a front row seat, just for him!”

                That was how I ended up the main attraction in London’s latest freak show.

                I mean, let’s be honest. I’ve never been to a play. Heck, I know nothing about theatre. But even I had to know I was in deep shit from the very first meeting, when the scriptwriter told us the basic premise of the story.

                It was a show for the Lunar New Year in Chinatown, and they wanted to present something that fitted the occasion and location—a piece of the Far East, plucked from the Land of the Dragons and dropped here in the capital of Britain. So they settled with the Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet—something they called ‘the Butterfly Lovers’.

                A brief summary: Two noble dudes meet at a posh school and become instant friends. One of the dudes turns out to be a dudette in disguise, sneaking out in menswear to smuggle an education. The girl, Zhu Yingtai, falls head over heels for the guy, Liang Shanbo, but as usual he’s utterly clueless. On the day she was summoned back to her hometown to marry a man she does not love, she reveals her identity to him, but it’s too little too late. Asian Romeo graduates with honors and becomes an official, but his unrequited love drained him of his health and he ailed away. On the day of her wedding, the intrepid heroine and her groom pass by her lover’s grave, and she was allowed to pay him her final respects. But when she falls to her knees in front of the tombstone, a hole opens underneath her and swallows her whole.

                Oh, and finally two butterflies fly out of the ground. Hence the name.

                Fine, it was not too bad as plots go. Beautiful, tragic, blah blah blah. I was actually deluded enough to think ‘hey, maybe this won’t be too bad’ for twenty whole minutes before they announced the casting.

                I was Yingtai. And Brett was Shanbo.

                Now, this was pushing nuttiness to the limit.

                Apparently, the video of me snuggling Brett that day had made its way to our overenthusiastic Drama teacher. And she –why was I not surprised it’s a she?—had all these connections, and thanks to us, the inspiration she needed to pull this off. So of course it had to be us. Everyone else was reduced to cannon fodder.

                Rehearsals were surprisingly fun, though. Especially the romantic scenes with Brett. Even under all that appalling makeup, his reactions were a bomb to watch. Problem was, I still couldn’t understand how a woman thinks, so how could I possibly know how to act like one?

                The problem was shadily resolved when the director and her assistants insisted, in glorious unison, with eyes flashing and nostrils flaring, that what I had been doing was perfect as it was. Instead, poor Brett was getting most of the flak, to add to his misery of having to deal with yours truly.

                For example—

                “Brett! Put more emotion into it! Remember, you’re madly in love with Sydney! I want to see it your eyes! Right there, like that, just like Sydney! Look at Sydney, Brett, and learn!”

                I fought the urge to snigger aloud, which made it all the harder for me to keep my ‘you-jump-I-jump’ bravely tragic look. It was still better than Brett, though—he just looked constipated.

                _“How do you expect Sydney to kiss that?”_

                Yup, you heard that right. There was a kissing scene, even in ancient China with everyone’s faces caked in what felt like whitewash. Though since I vaguely remembered reading something online about these traditional dramas being performed solely by men, I suspected the director had taken some liberties with this particular scene.

                “Seriously? I expected more from you.” Once I was sure the director was not watching, I stepped closer to Brett, until I could look up at him and feel his breath on my face. He tried desperately to avert his gaze, but I was not going to let him off so easily.

                Tilting his chin down, so he had no choice but to look at me, I leaned in—

                --and stopped my lips just before they touched his.

                “Cut! Cut! Brett, do we have to _spell_ everything out for you?! Sydney can’t do _everything!_ Move! Respond! Don’t stand there like a statue!”

                I pulled away, stared at him hard for a while, and turned away. “Sorry, director, but the mood’s kinda spoiled now, you know what I mean? Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.”

                My words seemed to wake everyone on set from some sort of trance, and they drifted away, muttering their satisfactions and grievances. Even the director jumped when she realized exactly how late it was, so Brett was let off easy this time. The way he looked at me, though, sure wasn't how someone looked at their savior.

                But I couldn’t have cared less about him this time. In fact, I couldn’t have cared about anything, except for the fact that it was past seven and that man must’ve been waiting for nearly an hour.

                Thankfully, by the time I got home, he hadn’t gotten desperate enough to sabotage my kitchen yet. _Yet._ I wasn't going to risk it, though.

                “You look like you were scared I’d blow up the place,” he said, leaning against the doorframe as he watched me roll my sleeves up, laughter in his eyes. “Come on, I’m not that bad.”

                “Sweetheart, you’re a genius at everything, as long as it isn’t edible.” I was too deep in my work to really think my words through, and when I finally realized the term of endearment I had used, I was so shocked I nearly chopped my finger off.

                “Are you okay?”

                “Yes!” I snapped out of my horror and swung around, the knife in my hand almost taking off his nose this time. “I’m okay, so you can go back out and wait for your dinner like a good boy!”

                “Okay, okay, whatever you say,” Kris laughed out loud this time, and then he actually did turn around and leave. Sucking the wound on my finger gingerly, I watched him go. It was… not as though I expected him to do anything else. Like panic, or fuss over me. Please, I had long gotten over the clingy phase…

                So why do I feel… a little wistful?

                Dinner took a little longer than I thought, with me being as distracted as I was. When finally I brought out the tray of freshly baked pasta, I found him sitting at the table, casually reading—

                “Hey, is this an invitation?”

                “You went through my stuff again,” I accused him, sounding calmer than I felt. Truth was, it took every ounce of my self-control not to pitch our dinner at him. “You had no right.”

                “You left your bag open, so I just happened to see it.” It was a lie, and only he could say it with such a straight face. I was beginning to think his talents were horribly wasted on singing. He should consider a career in acting—a cannibalistic serial killer, I could see it now. “I didn’t know you were into theatre.”

                “I wasn't. They forced me into it.” Well, it was true… at least half of it. “You got any plans for the 21st?”

                “Unfortunately, I do.”

                “Oh. Is that so?” I handed him a plate of the pasta, and found both my hand and voice surprisingly stable. “Too bad, then. Well, I guess you can keep the ticket. We’re not expecting much of a turnout anyway, at least this way they can still say they got rid of one of the seats…”

                And we continued on our dinner in silence.

 

On the day of the performance, as they were putting on my makeup for the second part of the show, I stared into the dressing table mirror, wondering again why the heck I was doing this.

                The seat in the middle of the front row seat had remained conspicuously empty, even as the rest of the hall filled up faster than we could have dreamed. More than once, people with a bit more cash to spare had approached the president about the prime seat, but she only glanced at me and firmly told them the spot was taken.

                I hadn’t bothered to correct her.

                The show was going smoothly thus far. As I would have expected from the city’s favorite high school quarterback, Brett was the type that performed better under pressure. Even the director didn’t have much to say about his act. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly getting the rave reviews I’ll admit he deserved just yet.

                The gong for the second half sounded, and I swept onto the stage as the beautiful young lady of a noble ancient Chinese household.

                At the end of act one, the heroine’s bluff had been called out. Now she was back to being who she was always meant to be, a songbird in its gold-gilded cage. Another suitor came to her family’s mansion with a train of boxes, filled with all the riches one could ask for, in exchange for her hand in marriage. Faced with her strict but loving parents, with the family honor at stake, she nodded, her head held high nonetheless in a manner that was both haughty and tragic.

                I won’t brag… but judging by the applause I got, I did the part quite well.

                The next scene was the problematic one. Yingtai had run away under the cover of the night to rendezvous with her lover one last time, but she could not leave with him. As she drank in the sight of him to engrave his face in her mind, it never occurred to her that by bringing him out that night, she had already signed his death sentence…

                In this scene, as opposed to Yingtai’s conflicted mess of a heart, Shanbo’s expression was clearly meant to be that of a man who had sworn to bring a star-crossed love to his grave. Even through the flour caked on his face.

                Could Brett pull that off? The conflict in my eyes was not completely faked as I moved to the middle of the stage. He had acted perfectly fine before, better than I had ever imagined—as though the load weighing him down had been lifted off his shoulders. Yeah, that was it… there was an extra spring in his step the entire night.

                I wonder, what could have made him so happy?

                The stage was dimly lit, and under the thick make-up, his expression was unreadable to me. The way he held his body, though, was spot-on. I felt a chill run down my spine, but my voice had all the emotions it was supposed to convey as I recited my lines.

                “One last time… Let me see you just one last time…”

                My mouth said the words, but my mind was racing. Only two more lines, and we’d reach the highlight of the show. Could he get over the fact that he was kissing a guy? Could he do it?

                Could I do it…?

                Because as hard as I tried, I couldn’t forget how I had stopped that day during rehearsals. Sure, he had frozen up, but that had never stopped me before. He was right there, we were just inches apart… and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to close in that tiny distance.

                What was wrong with me…? I never had that problem before. Heck, I was the type that kissed strangers on the street for a dare!

                Wait a second…

                “—Yingtai?”

                Shit! I shook myself out of my reverie. Wouldn’t do to miss the line now…

                “Even though… I know this is not right… Just once… Can you hold me tonight?”

                That was the signal. Actions speak louder than words, after all. Shanbo held my face in his hands, --and crashed his lips onto mine.

                No, wait, I wasn't ready, I—

                His kiss was passionate and warm, his heat spreading through me, lighting me up from inside. And even as I felt my panic fade, realization taking its place, my body responded to his touch, reaching for him, yearning for him—

                And he gently pulled away, holding me by the shoulders with a sad smile.

                --I knew he wouldn’t go through with it.

                “You are to be married in two days. This… is all I can give you.”

               “It is enough.” I allowed tears to stream down my cheeks, feeling thankful for the invention of waterproof makeup. Never thought I’d have to use so much of it, though. “We may never meet again…”

                “…But we’ll never be apart.” He said the cheesiest lines with so much solemnness even I couldn’t be tempted to laugh. Taking my gloved hand, he pressed it to his chest, so that I could feel the strong pound of his heartbeat. “Think of me.”

                “I’ll try.” And I pulled away, running off the stage while trying my best not to trip over my dress. Behind me, I knew he was standing exactly where I had left him, watching me until I was long gone, as the lighting dimmed over the lovers’ last scene…

 

Once the show was over and my face was clean, I knocked on the door to my co-star’s dressing room. 

                “Come in.”

                “I was right.” I eased myself into the room and carefully locked the door behind me. This time, he wasn't going to get away. “I love it when I’m right.”

                “About what?”

                “About you kicking ass as an actor. I bet the audience didn’t even realize the lead actor switched people halfway through the show.”

                “We counted on you to distract them.” He didn’t even look at me, wiping off the last dredges of the makeup with the handkerchief I had gotten him from the thrift shop just the other day. “Which you did, splendidly. At least, I knew _I_ couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.”

                “That’s because you’re my boyfriend,” I pointed out. “And wouldn’t it have been easier for you to just watch me from the seat I saved you?”

                “While we’re on that topic, I couldn’t help but notice how often you looked for me, even in the middle of the show.” He put on his glasses and beckoned me over, so I strode across the room and resolutely sat on his lap. Laughing softly, he rubbed his face into my hair, which was almost wavy thanks to the way it had been put up for the show. “And did you really think I would let you kiss another guy?”

                “Why not?” I pouted, but my words sounded unconvincing even to me. After all, I was the one who had hesitated when I had the hottest guy in high school in my hands-- “It’s all your fault. Because of you, I think I’ve forgotten how to kiss anyone else…”

                I might have expected a laugh, or a scoff, and maybe even a gloat. What I hadn’t expected, was the way he seemed to freeze and then instantly melt, his face turning scarlet to the tips of his ears as he stared at me, eyes wide—

                “W-what’s wrong? What--”

                “…Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” His voice was strained, and when he hugged me closer, I could feel his heart pounding even faster in his chest. “Why are you so cute…?”

                “W-what kind of a question is that?” I demanded, but my voice betrayed me. Already I felt the blood rushing to my face, so I turned away with a hmph. “Don’t think you can distract me just by—b-by saying things like that! You lied to me!”

                “I lied?”

                “You made me think you weren’t coming!” It had disturbed and disappointed me a lot more than I was willing to let on, but somehow all my allegedly amazing acting skills just seemed to fail me when I was alone with him.

                “I just said I had plans. And I did.” He laughed, sounding more like his normal self now. His heartbeat calmed too, and hearing it had a soothing effect on my nerves somehow. “Never underestimate your appeal, Sydney.  The moment you agreed to do the play, it was all over the local grapevine.”

                “You mean Facebook.”

                “Perhaps. Anyway, I contacted the Drama Club immediately. I was very touched when they told me exactly why you had joined, by the way.”

                “…Shut up.”

                Another low laugh. I rather liked the way it made his skin vibrate against mine.

                “That director is a fine woman, in my opinion. She kept me up to date on your progress, and you wouldn’t believe how proud that made me. You were doing something seriously, with all your heart, and just for me…”

                “I said, keep your opinions to yourself! And get on with the story!”

                “As you wish. The director told me about the largest road block in the drama, and so I volunteered my services. I was afraid your friend would feel offended, though, so we agreed to let him keep some scenes…”

                “Offended?” I snorted. “I bet he was over the moon.”

                “Yes, he did seem rather pleased when we told him the plan… Even though the director and I had agreed on this quite some time ago, we also agreed to only tell that young man on the day of the performance itself, so that he would put his all into practice and be all the better for it…”

                “That’s a load of crap. You just didn’t trust him not to ruin the surprise.” With good reason, too. “So let me get this straight. You never got any practice? At all?

                “Of course not. At the end, all I did was the scene with you. Easy.”

                “Tell that to Brett,” I mumbled, and wisely decided never to mention that name to Kris again. Just because I hadn’t actually kissed Brett doesn’t mean I hadn’t been close. And I didn’t need Kris to know exactly how close.

 

The next day, a review of the show was published in the Times. Kris had it framed and spent all afternoon finding the perfect spot to display it.

                And two days later, I received a letter from a local film company, offering me what seemed like the entire budget of their low-budget film.

                I read it a few times, then tore it up and carefully fed the pieces to the fire before Kris came.

                My shows were only ever made for a one-person audience.

                But I’d sooner jump into the fire myself than tell him that.


	9. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how pretty the present is, the past always has a way of catching up to you.

As an aftermath of the drama, I got my first taste of what it felt like to date a celebrity.

            “Sucks, doesn’t it?” Sydney was sprawled over the arm of the sofa, clad in nothing more than an oversized large T-shirt. And even that was barely covering anything now. Normally, I’d have thought he was trying to seduce me. But the sad truth was he wasn't even trying.

            Sure, he had yet to give up on challenging my oath to never go further than second base until his eighteenth birthday. I was fairly confident he would not succeed, though. Not unless he figured out it was that much harder for me to resist when he was acting natural, like his own irresistible self…

            Right now, for instance, I would tear my eyes away only to find my gaze attracted back to his bare skin.

            “…Are you even listening?”

            “Of course I am. It’s your fault for distracting me.”

                “And how did I—Oh, never mind, I won’t bother. What were we saying?”

            “You were saying how unsavory it was to be dating a superstar.” I summed up the conversation crisply. “And I was about to argue the opposite.”

            “Elaborate.”

            “With pleasure.” I gave in to temptation and moved over onto the sofa next to him, brushing my lips against his bare leg. For someone as experienced as he undoubtedly was, he always acted like a blushing child whenever he was taken off guard. Which was why I did it so often.

            “Cut that out! If you’re gonna talk, don’t do anything else while you’re at it!”

            I decided not the mention the irony of those words. “Very well. To begin my argument… Do you remember how you said I disliked the labels given to me all my life? Child genius, superstar drummer and so forth? Today, when I was waiting for you outside school, someone pointed at me and addressed me as ‘Sydney’s boyfriend’.”

            “…Don’t smile like that, it’s creepy.”

            “Why? I’m just deliriously happy.”

            “That’s why I said it’s creepy! Nobody gets that happy over something like that!”

            “Then they don’t know what true happiness is.” I thought I had a rather good idea of it myself, holding Sydney in front of the crackling fire, with the whole night ahead of us.

 

In the next few days, I found myself a new hobby.

            Due to his nearly overnight blast to fame and ever increasing fanbase, Sydney had started to wear disguises whenever we went out together. It was too much of a hassle for him to do it all the time, and besides, there was no point trying to hide in school where everyone knew him. But even though I had never mentioned anything about disliking it, Sydney had taken it into his own hands to never let our rare few dates get disrupted by his unruly fans.

            “…Isn’t this going a bit too far?”

            “No, why would you say so?” I assured him calmly as I tied more ribbons into his hair. “There. Don’t you think they go perfectly well with your dress?”

            As a response, he held up the lacy rim of the white summer dress wordlessly. And I smiled guilelessly at his reflection in the mirror until he finally found the words.

            “…I knew it. You just realized you’re straight after all.”

            I shook my head, still grinning like a lunatic.

            “…Is this some sort of fetish then?”

            Another shake.

            “…An experiment?”

            I raised my eyebrow. “What kind of experiment?”

            He threw his hands into the air helplessly. “I don’t know, you want to know how it feels like to date a pretty girl for once?”

            “Tsk-tsk,” I waved a finger at him playfully. “You really don’t get me at all, do you? I’ve dated plenty of pretty girls before, but why would I want another when I have you now? And my sexual orientation has nothing to do with it. I love you, and you just happen to be a guy, so I just happen to be a homosexual.”

            “…It’s a fetish, after all.”

            “How could you call it a fetish if I simply think the person I love looks good in a dress?”

            This time, my words sounded vaguely disturbing even to my own ears. But I could not help it, not since the first time I had seen exactly how breathtakingly beautiful Sydney could be, dressed up properly. And the fact that it was a drama director that had seen it first, and not me— Some part of me just did not like that, not in the slightest.

            Still, that line was a bit too much. The me from a few months ago would never have approved, but right now I would not have taken those words back for the world—because Sydney’s reflection was the most precious thing I had ever laid eyes on.

            It was late morning by the time we left my cottage. Usually I was more than happy to stay at his place—it was smaller, so he had less room to run away from me—but the rains had been especially heavy these days, and both of us knew his leaky roof would not hold up.

            As such, we emerged into a bustling street in the higher end of London. Sydney fidgeted a little self-consciously beside me, as though itching to get back into the slums. I smiled to myself, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

            “Don’t worry. No one’ll recognize you like this.”

            He relaxed almost instantly, even sticking his tongue at me as though scorning my encouragement.

            …All those hours I had spent picking out the perfect dress was definitely worth it.

            It was one of those rare Saturdays that both of us had off, so we wanted to make the most of it. Personally, I did not mind where we were as long as he was with me, but I could see he was getting a little restless. He had not much experience with this side of London, which could seem like a totally different area from his at times, and even though he never said it aloud, I knew he was dying with curiosity.

            So I became tour guide for the day.

            “Okay, where are we going?” Sydney finally gave in after we had wandered –rather aimlessly-- into the city square. “At least give me some hints.”

            “Where do you want to go?” I asked him back. “I’ll go wherever you want to go.”

            He stared at me. “No. Today you decide. You _never_ decide.”

            “Don’t you like to take charge?” I tilted my head to get a better look at him, and immediately wished I hadn’t. Maybe I rethink my plans to dress him up every time we went out—it was more dangerous than I had anticipated. “You don’t strike me as the type that follows instructions easily.”

            “You mean I’m bossy.” He scowled. “But you’re not my nanny, you’re my boyfriend, and even nannies order the kids around sometimes!”

            “You… want to be ordered around…?”

            “N-no! O-of course not!”

            I could have watched him splutter all day, but since we had already gone through the trouble of coming out, I decided to show him some of my favorite haunts. Just as I had started walking resolutely in a specific direction, however, I noticed he had stopped still behind me.

            “…Sydney?”

            Someone else was calling his name, someone I had never seen by his side before. And for some strange reason, the idea that this man I did not know was grabbing his hand, saying his name with overwhelming familiarity, stirred a sleeping monster deep inside me.

            “You have the wrong person,” Sydney said, meeting the man’s eyes squarely. And I followed his gaze, examining the man who had so rudely barged into our date.

            He was middle-aged, good-looking in a scruffy way. To put it another way, the type who could go a day without shaving and pull it off, especially considering the blonde beauty latching onto his arm.

            “Ron, do you know this girl?” The woman tilted her sunglasses to get a better look at Sydney, but seemed to find nothing of interest. At least, not until she looked up and saw me. “Oh, my! Aren’t you Kris from TRACK?”

            Only then did Ronald notice I was there, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’re from that boyband? What are you doing with Sydney?”

            “Like I said, I’m not who you think I am!” Sydney protested, pushing the man off him without even batting an eyelid at his blatant lie. “Kris!”

            “Coming, coming,” I laughed, moving over to pull him away. “Sorry, sir, but this one’s mine.”

            “She’s pretty, I’ll give her that,” the woman admitted reluctantly, which I found quite hilarious, actually. “But are you sure she can stand the pressure of dating you? Now, if it were me--”

            “Sara!” snapped Ronald, and I was taken aback by the anger in his voice. It seemed to me, at that time, far more than that of an average scorned lover. “Don’t you dare!”

            We made our escape just as Sara swirled back on her companion, looking ready to shoot her mouth off, and I led Sydney as we walked as fast as his dress would let him, all the way until we had retreated into a quiet alley. There, I readjusted my outfit as I waited for him to catch his breath.

            “—Aren’t you going to ask me who that was?”

           “I won’t ask if you don’t want to tell,” was my calm reply, but if anything, he looked even more frustrated by it.

            “He’s a guy I used to sleep with, okay? One of those nutcases who heard about my past and wanted in on screwing the human sacrifice. Since it turned him on so much, I thought I might as well give him a show, and pretended to be _sacred_.”

            “Sacred?” I knew I should not, but somehow I found the idea of it faintly amusing. “You? And he fell for it?”

            “Well, isn’t everyone raving about how good an actor I am?” He gave me the tongue again, but even if he himself did not realize it, I could see the tension leaving his shoulders as we talked. Was he afraid of how I would react when faced with one of his past lovers?

            How… adorable.

            But no, I corrected myself in my head. They had not been lovers. The way Sydney reacted to him, was like that of a child swinging at an annoying fly. He did not feel anything, probably never did feel anything, for the man that had recognized him, dressed as a girl, in a bustling crowd. In fact, I could see him gradually forgetting about poor Ronald the deeper I brought him into the alleys.

            “Just tell me where we’re going!”

            “You’ll see.” And to make sure he would not get lost, I took his hand.

            “H-hey! What are you doing?”

            It was a pointless question, and he knew it, so I chose not to answer it.

            “—What are we, little kids?”

            This time I stopped, still holding his hand, and turned around to look at him directly, my eyes burning with a fire I did not recognize.

            “No. Lovers.”

 

Eventually we arrived at a demure little restaurant, hidden deep in the veins of the city. As soon as we stepped through the daintily decorated doors, a familiar scent wafted over and a familiar face greeted us.

            “Oh, it’s Kris! You haven’t been here often, have you?”

            “It’s been a while.” I was mildly surprised to realize exactly how long it had been. Once, I would come here once a week, almost religiously.

            “I can totally see you digging places like this,” was Sydney’s first comment, and I tensed instinctively, waiting for the rest. Another slight shock—it was the first time I had shown Sydney something close to my heart, and despite myself I wanted him to approve with an emotion bordering on desperation.

            As I stared, he closed his eyes and smiled, a gentle smile that went perfectly with his guise. “It’s kind of quiet… but it smells nice.”

            “Then I assure you, the food’s as good as it smells,” laughed the waiter, a young man I knew as Ben. “It’s not often Kris brings guests, though. Be glad the place is emptier than usual today, it’ll save you a lot of ogling.”

            “No one really notices here, and you know that’s why I like it.” Here, in an alley hidden from the crowds, people like me come for a warm cup of countryside coffee and a quiet easiness that could not be found anywhere else in the city. Even if I were to be recognized here, the patrons would merely raise their eyebrows and go back to their coffee.

            We ordered the house specialty, and for the first time I found my usual table now prepared for two. Sydney was still looking around, taking in the details of the décor carefully. Did he like what he saw? Usually I could read him like a book, but this time my own nerves were clouding my sight.

            I had not been this nervous about anything since the time everyone in TRACK was nearly murdered.

            “…It’s pretty.”

            “Pardon.”

            “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he scolded, but he did not seem particularly angry. In fact, he seemed… more peaceful than I had ever seen him. And as though to prove my point, he closed his eyes again, with the same gentle smile, swaying to the music dancing lightly across the restaurant. “It’s soothing.”

            “Yes, isn’t it?” I took a sip of my coffee, but my eyes were transfixed on him. If bringing him to places like this meant seeing a side of him I had never imagined, I vowed to take him out every chance I got from now on.

            “It feels like you.”

            Say that again? The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I resisted. He had said that without much thought, I could tell, and reminding him would just make him deny it altogether. So I wiped away my disbelief, and contented myself with turning the words, and their implications, over in my head.

            He likes this place, because it feels like me.

            “…What are you grinning about?”

            “Nothing. I’m just glad you like it.”

            The vulnerability of the moment passed, he scoffed. “I can just imagine you sitting here, all lonely-like, for hours on your off-day, just because you have nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do.”

            “How did you guess?” I laughed. “Have you been stalking me?”

            “Of course not… wait, you mean I was right?”

            “Naturally.” What I was not going to say, tempting as it undeniably was, was how I had stopped even thinking of this place from the moment I had first met him.

            When the food arrived, his eyes lit up. It looked exactly like it did the last time I came, which was, for lack of better words, good. Too bad I could not join him for it right then.

            “I’m going out for a second.”

            “Where?” He looked up, his mouth already full with carbonara. “Your food’ll get cold.”

            “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.” I was already rising from my seat, my eyes fixed on something in the distance. “It’s just someone I knew."

            “…Okay. Don’t be long.”

            I had to smile a little at that. It just sounded like the classical exchange between spouses. But as soon as the door swung closed behind me, my smile vanished.

            “…Let’s go somewhere further away.”

            Ronald nodded, and I let him lead me into an alley some distance away. My memories of the last time I was brought, alone, into slums this dark were stirred, and roared to life when I realized there were at least a dozen people waiting for us in the shadows.

            “…Will you never give up?”

            The faces were all too familiar, people I had caught just recently snooping around just like this. Even though the last time I had gotten into a confrontation like this, I would admit I did not get off too well, but this time I had no room to be afraid.

            Because these people were not after me.

            “I hear my friends here have already met you, Mr Hart. So I take it you did not heed their warning?”

            It was true I had never laid eyes on Ronald before this, but somehow I was not as surprised as I should have been that he was part of this… faction.

            “Sydney said you worshipped him. So why are you here, with them?” My words cold, I jerked my head at the people who had been stalking Sydney since he had made his debut in that drama, waiting for him as I did after school every day. The ones who referred to me as ‘Sydney’s boyfriend’, and had warned me to cut all my ties with him.

            “I was deluded.” Ronald’s tone was poisonous, his face contorted with hatred. “The little devil must have cast a spell on me, just like he had with everyone else. With you. Don’t you see, Mr Hart? He’s bewitching you!”

            It would almost have been funny, if the murderous intent in their faces were not so very real.

            “You’re insane,” I advised them. “And you’re not going to keep me away from him.”

            “That boy is dangerous, and it’s our duty to make sure he doesn’t lead anyone else astray!” Ronald was ranting now, with something close to fanaticism. “We know what he’s planning! He wants to use you, so he can spread his evil to all those who admire you!”

            My brow creased in spite of myself. This was going too far.

            “There are three reasons I’m not reporting you to the police right now.” I held up the corresponding number of fingers and began the count. “One, I know Sydney really isn’t bothered by the likes of you. Two, having to testify at the station would probably just annoy him even more. And three--” I paused, meeting each of their eyes to show them exactly how serious I was.

            “—I know you could never actually hurt him. Because I won’t let you.”

            I turned to leave, but Ronald would not give up so easily.

            “Are you willing to protect him with your life? Don’t you see how deep you are under his spell? Cast if off, Mr Hart! Break free!”

            I should have just walked away. It would have been the smart thing to do. But time and again, I have proven to myself that whenever Sydney was involved, common sense goes out the window.

            “Nothing you say will ever make me leave his side.” The words that I had scorned at in the cheesiest romances had somehow or another found their way into my mouth. But for the life of me, I could not find anything better to say. Best leave now before I am rendered completely speechless—

            _“Why, Kris? Why do you love him so?”_

I almost stopped, but my feet carried me as though on their own free will. No matter how fast I ran, though, I could not escape the speed of sound—

            Why, indeed?

 

“That was more than a second.”

            By the time I had settled back into my seat, Sydney’s plates had already been cleared away, and he was sipping a striking blue mocktail. Avoiding his gaze, I bent down to taste my soup—it was freezing cold.

            “Did something happen?”

            “Yes. But nothing of importance.”

            “Really?” He did not push it further, just watching me unsettlingly as I ate.

            Had it always been so hard to keep secrets…? I wanted to run for a mirror, because I felt sure that my face was giving everything away.

            “Done?”

            Once I had polished off my food, I had no more reason to avert my eyes. For the first time, I had to force myself to look at him… and when I did, I saw the same nervousness in his expression. The shade of delicate pink that covered every inch of his skin, the shifty awkwardness in his eyes…

            Was it possible that he had been avoiding me just as I was avoiding him, so he never noticed my hesitation?

            “K-Kris… Close your eyes.”

            Questions rang abound in my mind, but I obeyed nevertheless. Mumbling something like ‘man sometimes you’re like a dog’, he leaned in closer… and held up my right hand, sliding something smooth and cold down my pointer finger.

            “…Okay, you can open them now.”

            My eyes flew open and I stared at the ring sitting snugly on my hand. It was a simple white gold band, no fancy details or embossing. And when I took it off, all I saw was a date etched on the inside. Not even a name, or initials.

            “This is…”

            “An anniversary present,” Sydney explained, still blushing furiously and looking resolutely at everything except me. “It’s been a month since we met, so I thought… I might as well get you something.

            “And don’t say you don’t need it!” Before I could respond, Sydney turned onto me, suddenly angry. “You’ve always given me things, without asking anything for return! If we’re really l-lovers, then it should be a two-way thing! Just like—just like these rings.”

            And I saw he had another, identical band around his finger.

            _Oh, Sydney…_

            “Are you saying you want me to be more selfish with you?”

            He looked like he wanted to protest my use of the word, but perhaps he could not find a better way to phrase it, because finally he just bit his lip and nodded.

            _What will I do with you…?_

“Okay, then I have a selfish request. Say that you love me.”

            I prepared myself for the argument that would ensue, the convincing I would need to do to get him to say those three little words. After all, I could not have failed to notice he had never told me those words before. And although I had pretended not to mind for a month, the way Ronald’s words had unsettled me proved that I _did_ mind. Either way, I had to know for sure.

            “Idiot. Isn’t it obvious enough already…?”

            I opened my mouth to cut him off, but the words died in my throat when he leaned in abruptly and planted a brief, awkward kiss onto the tip of my nose.

            “…Of course I love you.”

            I was still in a state of shock by the time he sat back down, flipped his hair at me and added in an unconvincingly frivolous tone, “Now don’t make me repeat myself.”

            The sunlight sifting through the window glinted on his ring, onto the blush on his cheeks, into his mesmerizing eyes. And all I could think was _:_ Ronald, the question isn’t ‘why’.

            It’s ‘how could I not?’

            And then aloud, I asked,

            “While you’re in a good mood… Could I ask you for another selfish request?”

            “…Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

            “Please.”

            “…Fine.”

            I smiled, and stood up to kiss him on the forehead, savoring the heat on his skin. From somewhere in the distance, I think Ben whistled. Maybe I should have mentioned to Sydney that Ben was also a coursemate of mine, and now everyone at college would know the juicy details.

            But I did not want to ruin the mood.

 

Later back home, while Sydney was in the shower, I picked up my phone and dialed a number I would have least expected myself to call.

            “…Hello, Ali. It’s Kris. Look, I have a favor—no, a deal to offer you…”


	10. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to meet the family(?).

As I had so foolishly agreed to, the next day I met Alison Callicott, TRACK’s manager.

                “So this is the one you meant, Kris?” She scrutinized every inch of me closely, as though those large eyes were magnifying glasses. Whilst hiding behind Kris, I tried to get a good look at her too. Instead of a manager, she had the fashion sense of a celebrity.

                “Trust me, she knows her stuff,” Kris reassured me, and I gave him one more withering look before giving myself up to her examinations. It was the first time a girl had touched and prodded at me like that, and although she was very clear where the limits were, by the time she was done I still felt vaguely violated.

                “Honestly, where do you guys find these people?” She shook her head, her mane of chestnut hair ripping behind her as she did. “I took ages to get used to being around Ashley, and then you give me this one…”

                “No one’s giving nobody nothing!” I protested vehemently. “And I have a name, you know!”

                “A triple negative makes a negative, I think.” Kris laughed, but there was something protective about the way he put his arm around my shoulder. “Alison, this is Sydney. With two ‘y’s.”

                “Not bad,” she admitted. “The name fits, too. So are you a girl or a boy?”

                “I’m a guy, thank you very much!” I snapped.

                “Are you sure? You’d have much more of a mysterious appeal if no one could be exactly sure…”

                “I’ll pass!” Once I had declined with all the force I could muster, I rounded in on Kris again. “Is it too late to go back on the deal?”

                “It wasn’t a deal, I just asked you for a favor. And of course you can back out if it makes you uncomfortable. Would I ever make you do something you didn’t want to?”

                No… but you wouldn’t let me do a lot of things I do want to. And if you’re really fine with whatever I want, don’t give me that hurt puppy-dog look!

                “So you really are Kris’ special someone, aren’t you?” Alison looked from me to Kris and back again, nodding her head with something that looked disturbing like a mother’s approval. “I had sensed something in the way Kris asked me yesterday—I mean, since when has Kris Hart ever _asked_ for anything? You said you’re a guy?”

                I tensed a bit at her words. This was the first person from Kris’ past that I had met in person, and although I knew Tyr and possibly Ashley at least already knew about us, meeting someone from that happiest part of Kris’ life face to face made me feel unreasonably nervous.

                “Sydney is Sydney. It doesn’t matter to me where he’s a guy or girl.” Kris rolled me into his embrace casually, so I had to struggle a little and crane my neck before I could get a good look at Alison’s reaction.

                She stared for a heart-stopping moment, and finally she threw her head back and laughed. “Seriously, Kris? Man, I’d love to see Ryder’s reaction when he meets you!”

                There was that name again… Curiosity took over, despite my best efforts, and I just had to ask. “Is he really that bad?”

                Kris smiled faintly. “Well, let’s just say that when we were young and innocent, I had sworn at him that I was straight before he felt safe enough to call me his friend.”

                “That type.” My eyes narrowed dangerously. “Hey, you won’t mind if I play him around a bit, will you?”

                “Be my guest.” Kris looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh out loud, and Alison didn’t even bother to try to hide the sadistic anticipation in her eyes. “He used to be quite popular in the romantic department, but since he found his current girlfriend I don’t think he’s ever made a pass on anyone else.”

                “Noelle would kill him,” Alison added for good measure. “But I have a hunch she’ll like you once she gets to know you. Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you just fine--”

                Even though I had been dating TRACK’s drummer for almost three months now, the idea of getting to know the world’s hottest supermodel should still have excited me, at least a little. But instead, I was filled with an ominous sense of dread.

                “—After all, you’ll officially be colleagues as soon as you sign this contract… right _here._ ”

                Feeling a little weak, I dutifully scrawled my signature on the dotted line. As soon as the tip of my pen left the surface of the paper, she whipped the contract away and rolled it expertly, with a sense of finality.

                “From today onwards, I am your new manager. I’m expecting many great things from the one Kris recommended, so don’t disappoint me!”

                “Of course I won’t.” But my words didn’t have much conviction in them.

                “Welcome to the dark, evil world of showbiz.” Kris gave me a brief but tight hug, and brushed his lips over the top of my head. “I’m sure you’ll thrive in it.”

                And that was how I started my life as a supermodel in training.

                Alison was now eyeing me like a particularly shiny trophy in her cabinet. “Yup, with a face and body like yours, I’m sure you’ll wreak havoc in the fashion world. Oh, and I’m sure you’ll get along with the girls, too.”

                “The other models? I thought they didn’t like competition.”

                “No, they’re all witches. Except for Noelle, of course, but she’s different. And then there’s Lea, but you don’t have to worry about her. She just looks fierce, to scare the criminals, but actually she’s a real softie--”

                I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

                “—At first I didn’t know them that well, but we really bonded, you know? Being part of the same circumstances, we girls had to stick together… but now that you’re here, I guess we can’t do much of the girly stuff anymore, huh?”

                “What?” Wait, what did any of that had to do with me?

                Kris must have noticed my growing irritation, and swooped down to Alison’s rescue. “She’s talking about the TRACK plus-ones. It’s almost like a club… Ali is Tyr’s girl, Lea was Ashley’s policewoman girlfriend I mentioned before, and I’m sure you know about the love-hate thing Ryder and Noelle have going on.”

                “More love than hate,” Alison clarified. “That part was solved ages ago.”

                My expression must not have improved much, because Kris wisely chose to change the subject. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to meet them for a while yet. They’re all quite busy with their respective careers.”

                Speaking of which… I remembered something unpleasant, and my heart sank, just a little. “I guess, with all this model stuff, we won’t be seeing much of each other anymore, huh?”

                Kris raised an eyebrow, but he looked vaguely pleased. “Are you saying you’ll miss me?”

                “N-no! I’m just wondering if you’ll get lonely, that’s all… And you do get lonely easily, admit it,” I retorted almost accusingly.

                Before he could reply, Alison interjected. “Your work only starts in a few days, and by then… Hasn’t Kris told you?”

                “Told me what?”

                Alison gave him a disapproving look. “That TRACK will be busy, too. They’re coming over here tomorrow to write and record a new single.”

                Wait—

                The only word that stuck in my head was ‘tomorrow’.

                “Calm down—You’ll be fine--”

                I pushed Kris away, my vision blurred by something dangerously close to panic.

                “Damn you, Kris! I’m not ready to meet the in-laws yet!”

 

I had busied myself cleaning up Kris’ cottage for an entire morning before I realized I was by no means obligated to. And then I sat myself in a corner, arms crossed, and waited as patiently as I could.

                After I looked out the window for the gazillionth time, Kris’ car finally pulled up in the driveway.

                In flesh, TRACK was all the more awe-inspiring than they were on screen, which was saying something. On TV, they were just a bunch of ridiculously good-looking, charismatic young men. The camera loved them, but it couldn’t quite capture the spotlight that seemed to shine on them everywhere they went.

                Kris got down first, laughing at something someone else had said. The person in the passenger seat got out next—Tyr, I thought. He was distracted, too—maybe the joke hadn’t finished, but as soon as I focused on him, his head snapped up and his eyes met mine. As though he had felt me watching him.

                For a moment I tensed all over, feeling him examine me with those sharp hazel eyes. And then, just as I was forgetting how to breathe, his lips curved, just a little.

                I resisted the urge to heave a deep sigh of relief.

                “—so she said, ‘You’re kidding.’ And of course I put on my coolest face, and told her--”

                I might never find out what he said, because as soon as Ryder noticed who Tyr was smiling at, he froze like a statue. The other two came out from the other side of the car—first Ashley, then Cal. When Ashley saw me, his face just lit up. Like a light bulb. As for Cal—there was a hint of surprise, and then mild curiosity.

                Whilst I was still sizing up the family, Kris had managed to slip behind me and slid his arm around my waist.

                “Guys—this is Sydney. My boyfriend.”

                “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Tyr said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. I guessed that he was remembering the time Kris had called him for permission before kissing me in full view of everyone in my school, something I more or less considered the start of our relationship. It was pretty funny, though… Reliving the memory, I found myself smiling too.

                “I thought that expression looked familiar.” Kris glanced from me to Tyr and back, his voice somewhat exasperated. “Okay, penny for your thoughts.”

                _Quite a piece of work, isn’t he?_ I winked at Tyr.

                _But that’s precisely why you chose him, isn’t it?_ Tyr nodded knowingly at me.

                Aloud, he announced, “Don’t worry, K. I get the feeling we’ll get along just fine.”

               “Agreed.” I edged out of Kris’ embrace to stand right in front of Tyr. He was still taller than me, but not as tall as Kris. Holding his gaze, it almost felt as though I was looking into a mirror. “Well met, Master Fallon.” And I held out my hand.

                “The feeling’s mutual.” He shook my hand solemnly, respecting me as an equal. “My friend’s happiness is in your hands now.”

                “Hey, Tyr, don’t hog him!” A melodious voice interrupted us. The same person grabbed me by the shoulders and forcefully spun me around, but still I can safely say I wasn't the least bit surprised when I found myself faced with the prettiest member of the band.

                “Sydney, right?” Ashley beamed up at me, as though just meeting me was enough to make his day. “Kris has told me much about you!”

                “Has he?” I tossed Kris a glare behind Ashley’s back, but I knew from Kris’ stories that this wasn’t someone I could discourage with a vague answer. “Yeah, I’m Sydney. It’s nice to meet you… I think.”

                He grabbed my hand before I could offer it, and shook it vigorously. “It’s good to finally meet you! Kris was right, you _are_ gorgeous… even better than in the photos!”

                Kris told this guy, this fallen angel, that I was pretty? Okay, that made me a little happier than I looked… but my mood darkened again at that last part. “Photos? What photos?”

                “Alison posted them all over the Net yesterday,” said a young-ish voice with a laugh. Kris had told me Cal used to stick to Ashley all the time, and even they had gone their separate ways for nearly a year now, I could still see an unspoken closeness between them in the way they held themselves. “Apparently, the fashion world is already awaiting its next glitter baby.”

                He must mean the instant portfolio she had made me do as soon as the contract was signed—damn that lady worked fast!

                “You’re quite promising,” Cal summed up. “I bet Kris made you do it?”

                “How d’you guess?” Although I’d asked Kris to make more demands of me, even I couldn’t have expected this. As far as overprotectiveness and/or possessive meters went, he rated about above average. Maybe a 7.5 out of ten. I can’t say for sure, because he always got jealous at the weirdest times.

                Cal smiled faintly, and Ashley winked at me all conspiracy-like, whispering, “Later.”

                Which I’ll admit, both annoyed and intrigued me.

                “I have to say, you guys are taking this a lot calmer than I thought you would.” I tilted my head. Tyr I knew, Ashley I’d guessed, but Cal? “Did you know Kris had turned gay before coming here?”

                Tyr nodded, Ashley smiled sheepishly, and Cal shrugged, adding, “Ashe was real fidgety the whole way here, saying Kris’d met someone special. And he kept throwing Ryder all these worried looks, so I figured it was something like this…”

                So the only one who had been totally clueless was the ice sculpture that was now obstructing traffic.

                “Sorry, he overreacts sometimes,” Ashley took me by the arm apologetically, leading me back inside. “But don’t worry, he’ll get over it eventually.”

                Was he sure…? I glanced at Ryder again before the door was closed behind us. He sure didn’t look like he would be recovering any time soon.

 

“Are you sure you guys will be okay here?”

                Kris asked for the third time, and I shooed him away impatiently.

                “Yes, we’ll be just fine! Now go, unless you want me to dump my things on your foot!”

                With another concerned look at us, he finally, reluctantly left the living area, presumably to help the other two unpack their bags. And I could spread out my futon in peace.

                “I’d never heard anyone talk to Kris like that,” Cal noted from the other side of the fireplace. “And I’d never dreamed he’d just take it.”

                “You’ve really changed him,” Ashley said approvingly, unrolling his blanket. “He talks more now, laughs more. I mean, you should have seen him back then!”

                “A total stiff,” Cal agreed, and I had to smile. Yes, I could imagine that just fine.

                The three of us had to bunk out in the living room because the others were just too tall to fit here. It wasn’t easy, though—Kris kept insisting we take the bedroom, and Tyr occasionally hinted that Kris and I should stay together. Which would have suited me just fine, except both Kris and Ashley were firmly against it.

                Kris had loosened up a bit these days, so at least we could sleep in the same room now, occasionally on the same bed, but he was still firm about the ‘no sex until it’s legal’ thing, so I wasn't as confused as Cal was when Kris seemed to want to keep me away. As for Ashley, I got the feeling he just wanted us apart so he could get the juicy details out of me before we slept. Tyr looked amused.

                Ryder just looked shocked.

                Contrary to whatever Ashley had said, he had not really recovered from the revelation that one of his best friends was a homosexual by dinnertime. He even cooked in a daze, though the others assured me that the quality of the food was unaffected. It _was_ pretty good, and I resented aloud the fact that they could still stay so in shape with a cook like that.

                “Alison makes us do health checks every month,” Ashley told me. “And Tyr makes sure we make good use of the gym.”

                “I didn’t know you worked out,” I looked at Kris accusingly. And all this time, he had led me to believe that that amazing physique was completely natural…

                “I don’t,” he replied nonchalantly, reaching for the salad bowl. “I just enjoy the occasional run on the treadmill, that’s all.”

                The cottage had always felt ginormous compared to my cramped apartment, but even it was obviously ill-suited to house six somewhat grown men. For example, there was barely any elbow room at all around the table. I was squeezed between Kris and Cal, and Ryder shirking away from any contact whatsoever didn’t help matters.

                It became increasingly obvious throughout the night. Every time I entered a room, Ryder would slip out. Rather impressive, considering the obvious lack of hiding places. Eventually, though, I had him cornered by the fireplace, where everyone was gathered for the show.

                “You haven’t introduced yourself to me yet,” I purred, taking one step closer to him. He tried to back away, but was met with cold unforgiving wall. “Come now, I won’t bite. Or are you really that scared of me?”

                “S-scared? Whoever said I was scared?”

                “Don’t know. I just have a way with these things.” I leaned into his private space, now so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. “For example, right now… I know you want me, but you don’t want to admit it.”

                _“What the hell are you raving about?”_

He tried to shove me away, but it would never be that easy, now, would it? Grinning widely, I took half a step back, ducked, and slipped around behind him—or at least, I tried to, until a firm hand gripped my arm, stopping me short.

                “That’s enough, Sydney.”

                Kris’ voice was colder than I’d ever heard it—and it was directed at me. I felt as though a bucket of ice had been thrown down my back, and my mind went numb.

                This tone… was one he used often, on anyone foolish enough to cross him. I always found it rather hilarious, the way they would pale and stutter, as though robbed of their courage. But I’d never been on the receiving end before.

                Was it always so… painful?

                “…Let go.”

                “Sydney--”

                “Let me go!”

                I broke free from his grip, but he didn’t put up much of a resistance. When I glared at him, he looked—for lack of better words—shocked. It was such a rare sight that I almost hesitated. Almost.

                “You know, I always said you’re too obedient. Learn to fight once in a while, won’t you?” I stuck my tongue out at him, and before anyone could react, I was back to staring Ryder down. “You never know unless you try.” And I leaned in—

                “Hey.”

                For the first time since we met, Ryder touched me. With a strength I should have expected, he held me an arm’s length from him, his hand pressed firmly on my chest. “Are you serious about Kris? Because I don’t touch my mates’ stuff.”

                “Of course he’s serious.” Kris put a hand on my shoulder, and I didn’t shrug him off. Yet. “We’re crazy about each other.”

                “Don’t say that with a straight face,” Ryder groaned, echoing me word for word. “And try not to be too mushy while we’re here. Or at least, not where I can see it.”

                “I’ll try, but I can’t talk for Sydney. Syd--”

                I finally moved, brushing him off and turning away. “Sure. Anything. I’ll leave you guys at it. I’m… going out for a breath of fresh air.”

                “Wait, Syd--”

                I didn’t wait for the rest of his sentence, letting myself out of the cottage. It was still a little chilly out, but nothing I couldn’t take, even without a coat. The snow had thawed out weeks ago, but there was still a hint of frost here and there if you looked closely. Under the dim lamplight, it was quite beautiful.

                “…Hey.”

                The voice was unmistakable, so I didn’t turn around to see exactly who was addressing me. “Aren’t you happy? Your friend approves.”

                I couldn’t help but notice Ryder’s stiffness all day hadn’t been on my behalf alone. Now, I didn’t know for sure how tight Kris and Ryder used to be back in the old days, but I was fairly sure it wasn't like this. Ryder wouldn’t even look him properly in the eye.

                Until just now. When they were both restraining me.

                “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

                “Then why are you angry?” My voice nearly trembled, and I hated myself for it, but I think I did a decent job of hiding it, if I may say so myself.

                “I’m not angry.”

                “Oh, cut the crap,” I snapped, finally swirling around to face him. “I know about these things, remember? I can tell how you’re feeling. What I don’t get is what you’re thinking…”

                “…Then I’ll tell you.” Before I could get a good glimpse at his expression, he enveloped me in a tight hug, and then all I could see were the streets behind him. I could feel him, though. His heart was pounding, next to mine.

                “I tried to do something nice for you, for once, you know.” I didn’t think I had to spell it out for him, but like I said, there was no telling what he was thinking at times like these. “You’ve finally made up with him, so you should just go back and talk to him like you used to. Don’t mind me, I’ll be fine out here…”

                “…You’re right. I am mad.” He gripped me even tighter, until my vision started blurring at the edges. Or maybe, that was something else…

                “So do you hate me? For making your friend uncomfortable…” My words sounded childish, but there they were, and I couldn’t take them back. It’s only been two months… have I messed up already?

                “Hate you?” He finally pulled away from me, but still held me firmly by the shoulders so he could take a good look at me. “Sydney… are you crying?”

                “W-what do you mean? It’s just the frost in my eyes, idiot!” And it was, honest!

                “Really? Well, that’s a relief.” He smiled at me, but he was still angry. I could see it in his eyes. And I hated how that in itself twisted my chest so badly I could barely breathe.

                “You know what, I think I’ll pack my things now. Leave you buddies alone.” I was never welcome anyway. But I really had to bite my lip to stop myself from adding, you’re free to come over whenever you want, though. Because that would be admitting what it meant if he didn’t.

               “—I said I understood you. I’m taking that back now.” Gently turning my face back to him, he bent in and kissed me. Gently. Slowly. As though he was trying to comfort me, and at the same time terrified of hurting me.

                It lasted a lifetime, and still it wasn't long enough. When at last we pulled apart, I think my reluctance must have shown on my face, because he just laughed.

                “See? I’m not mad. Are you?

                “Why would I be mad?” I was more hurt than anything, but I wasn't going to tell him _that_. “Even if I am, that’s just because you’re mad. You _were_ mad. And you already said so, so don’t pretend you weren’t.”

                “The only reason I was mad, was because you thought you weren’t the most important person in my life right now. You hate Ryder’s guts, and you never touch people you don’t like. You forced yourself, just so that I could make up with someone else… As though you didn’t matter more to me than anybody else.”

                That was the last thing I expected, which really goes to show how little I knew him. And now… how do I reply to that?

                “Uh… thank you.”

                “That’s it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t there something else?”

                Was there anything else? What had started off as a dare, a kiss from one stranger to another, had suddenly, overwhelmingly, become so much more… But how much more?

                Kris saw my hesitation, and hurt flickered through his eyes. Was that how I had looked just now? On Kris, that expression nearly broke my heart.

                And that proved everything.

                “…Same here.”

                “Pardon?”

                “I feel the same.”

                “About what?”

                “I feel the same about you!” I snapped, blushing furiously. “Y-you’re the most important person to me… for now. And honestly speaking, you don’t have much competition.”

                “Exactly how I like it.”

                He laughed, which made me smile, and then he lifted me as easily as he would a child, twirling me around in the middle of the street.

 

“And then what happened?” Ashley asked eagerly, from underneath his covers.

                “What else could have happened? We came back, you were there,” I retorted irritably. It was two in the morning, and unlike some people, I couldn’t afford to show up at work with bags underneath my eyes. And how come Cal got to sleep in peace?

                “Oh, so that’s why you were looking so happy when you came in.” Ashley nodded knowingly. “I know I sound like a broken record, but I barely ever saw Kris that happy… Well, except for that one time… But never mind that! Tell me again about the time he confessed to you! How did he look? Was he as happy as he was just now? Was he…?”

                “Wait, which one time was that?” I interrupted, my curiosity piqued in spite of myself.

                “Oh, it was nothing. His sister came over, the oldest one—what’s her name? Kristal, or Kayla--”

                “Kylie.” Cal’s voice sounded muffled, but he sure as hell wasn't asleep.

                “Ah, yes. Kylie. Kris has always kept in contact with his sisters even when his parents weren’t talking to him. Well, it was mostly his sisters fussing over him on the phone, so even he was surprised when she came over--”

                Kris, surprised? As surprised as when I pushed him away and yelled at him just now?

                I had to know.

                “Exactly how surprised--”

                “Can it, you two. Some of us need to sleep around here.”

                At Cal’s irritated protests, I quickly shut my mouth, turned around to face Ashley, and continued my question in a whisper.

                Maybe these guys weren’t that bad, after all.


	11. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you find something good, you either feel like showing it off, or hiding it away from prying eyes. Choose carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed an update because I left my charger at the hostel orz Brilliant me...

“Okay, boys, that’s a wrap!” Tyr clapped his hands, the sound unnaturally loud in the soundproof recording booth. “Good work. I see we haven’t lost our touch.”

            “Of course.” I pulled out a cloth and polished my drumsticks for one last time before tucking them safely into their pocket. “We’re TRACK.”

            “But don’t worry, no pressure.” Ryder’s words dripped sarcasm, but it was obviously a front. He was as relieved, and as pleased, as the rest of us that our first recording after a year’s hiatus went well.

          “I knew we could do it,” Ashley beamed, handing out drinks. “That’s why I don’t get why you were so worried.”

            “That’s easy for you to say, you’ve never stopped living and breathing music,” Cal remarked, accepting a can of coffee and popping the tab open. Whether or not we were actually allowed to do that in here, I was not about to find out for myself. “You went from writing songs for us, to writing songs for everyone else.”

            He had a point. After going our separate ways, Ashe was the only one who stuck around with music. Tyr had ventured into business, Ryder into acting, and Cal into volunteer work. As for me… it was not as though my drums were gathering dust at home, but it was close. Life had gotten unexpectedly hectic these past few months, and there was only one reason I touched my drums at all.

            Windows did not serve much of a purpose here in a recording booth, so when I glanced at my watch I could not tell if it was six in the evening or morning. “Anyone know how long we’ve been here?”

            “Long enough,” said Alison’s weary voice from the door that had just swung open. “Well, it’s good to see you guys are still up and about, but shall we call it a day?”

            I left Tyr trying to make it up to his girlfriend, stepping into the lounge and fishing out my phone.

            “What, did he leave any messages?” Ryder threw himself onto the nearest couch, stretching and yawning in a completely unseemly manner for an international star. But I spared him the lecture this time—after all, the place was practically deserted. And besides, I had other things on my mind.

            “I don’t remember Kris being the type to check his phone the first thing after a recording,” Cal said dazedly, and Ashley shushed him with a playful knock to the back of his head.

            “Geez, Cal, isn’t it obvious? He misses someone, and wants to see if that someone missed him too.”

            “Yeah, real funny.” But I had to admit, I was a little disappointed not to find any messages or missed calls from that particular number I had committed to memory. Then again, he never was one to spam my mailbox. But at least, I thought there would be a call…

            “Oh, look. Alison sent you something.”

            I did not need Ryder peeking into my inbox, and I definitely did not need him telling me what was obvious to everyone with eyes, but I was not in the mood to argue. So, feeling uncharacteristically crestfallen, I did not even stop to wonder why our manager had sent me a mail two hours ago, when she was here with us now.

            ‘Here, an instant cure for love-sickness. And don’t worry, he misses you too-’

            Attached to the teasingly short message, was nearly twenty shots of Sydney in a variety of outfits and poses.

            “Whoa.” Ashley sounded impressed. “He’s a natural.”

            “Oh, you’re only seeing that now?” Alison finally joined us, dragging an exhausted Tyr in tow. Whatever it was that he had promised Alison to appease her, he was already regretting it. “Before I came here, I brought your little boyfriend to his first real job. He was acting like a real prick about the whole thing, but the camera loves him, the clients love him, and honestly, I love him too. You got yourself a real gem there, Kris. Better hold on real tight.”

            “You know I will.” I tried to hit save on the entire file, but in my haste I accidentally ended up sending the whole file to my sister. One of my sisters. The point was, these smart phones were getting too sensitive for their own good. They were efficient, though, I had to admit that much. By the time the pictures were finished downloading, I had already decided which one would make the best wallpaper.

            Ryder glanced at me, and just as quickly buried his face into the pillows, groaning. “Dude, find yourself a mirror! You’re smiling like a horny pedophile!”

            “You’re exaggerating.” I hastily rearranged my features anyway.

            “I’m beginning to see why you dragged us all the way here to London.” Tyr seemed to have recovered enough strength to join in the fun. “With someone like that, turn your back for a second and he might be gone once you get back.”

            “…You didn’t have to, you know.”

            “Didn’t have to what? Agree to one of your rare requests?” Tyr looked deeply amused, which did lift my spirits marginally. “Kris, you barely ever ask us for anything. Surely we’d want to know what had suddenly made you so selfish?”

            “And kill me, but now that you’ve given me a teaser, I wouldn’t miss this show for the world.” Another reassuringly snide remark put my mind at ease, even if Ryder sounded more than a little reluctant saying it. “That kid has you totally wrapped around his little finger. And one of these days, I’m gonna get close enough to ask him how he did it. Unless you’d save me the trouble and tell me yourself?”

            “Not a chance,” I guaranteed him, “because I’m not too sure how myself. And I don’t think he does, either.”

            “That’s called love,” Ashley laughed. “Come now, I know you all understand what I mean. Ryde, haven’t you done some stupid things for Noelle yourself?”

            “Still doing that,” Tyr confirmed. “Just like how I’d just promised to row Alison across the River Thames.”

            We all shared a laugh at that, and I felt a weight I had not noticed before lift off my chest. We had all been prepared to make some sacrifices, take some time of our new lives to record this single. I had even taken a month’s leave of absence from college, steadfastly ignoring the dirty looks my professor threw me. But I would rather grit my teeth and humbly ask my friends to uproot themselves from their respective environments and bunk out here than to leave London for that long a time.

            Maybe Ali was right, and I was just terrified of the possibility that by the time I turned back around, Sydney would be gone.

 

Piercing rays of the late morning sun woke me a few hours later, and I got out of bed feeling rather like I had never gotten into it. A quick check on the bedside clock told me it was 10 am sharp, exactly the time I had planned to wake up, even though I had not set the alarm.

            Huh, what do you know? Self-hypnosis worked. Although I was not sure how long I spent lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and telling myself ‘ten o’clock, ten o’clock’. The whole three hours, quite possibly.

            I shook my head, removing all traces of drowsiness, and treaded carefully out of the room. Both Tyr and Ryder were still out cold, and I was not about to deny them this well-earned rest. We had been working unnatural hours for almost a week now, and truthfully I was surprised we had held out this long.

            But right now, I needed something else more than my beauty sleep.

            The sweet aroma of sizzling bacon wafted throughout the entire house, but as I tiptoed past the living area I could see that it had absolutely no effect on Ashley and Cal, lost as they were in their dreams. And again I wondered why I was not asleep with them, as Alison would surely insist I should be.

            The answer to my question had moved on to scrambling eggs, but even then I had not gotten past the kitchen door before he noticed me. Without turning around, he spoke to me in that voice I had missed more than I had thought was possible.

            “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

            “Couldn’t sleep.” Which was perfectly true, because I knew how much I would regret it if I woke up in the evening and realized I had missed another chance to at least see him. “How long has it been since we talked like this? Five days?”

            “Four. And don’t sound so homesick, we still live in the same place.”

            “But we just keep missing each other!” I could not keep the frustration out of my voice, and did not even wait for him to put down the frying pan before I hugged him tightly from behind. “Every time we get back, you’re already asleep. And by the time I wake up, you’d have gone!”

            “We’re both busy, that’s all,” he said curtly. “And besides, I always leave you guys breakfast on the table. I’m sure you’d at least know how to heat it up, wouldn’t you?”

            “But still, I’d rather have it fresh from the pan.” What I would not say aloud was, I wanted it to taste like he had just made it, and just for me. There was simply something different about it after Ryder had thrown it back onto the fire for a few minutes.

            “…If I say no, will you go back to sleep like a good little boy?”

            My silence was all the answer he needed, and he sighed heavily in resignation. And so, for the first time in four days, we got to eat a decent meal together.

            “—How’s work so far?”

            “Not awful. You would tell me if it was just a big prank, though, would you?”

            I laughed. “Why would you think so?”

            “I don’t know… sometimes I do whatever I like, and they’ll just go, ‘Perfect! We’ll take it!’ I mean, seriously…?”

            Even though we had not properly seen each other for so long, I was relieved that nothing much seemed to have changed between us. Perhaps I was overreacting… But then, when I think that we had gone from strangers to lovers in a few short months, it scared me to think what we might end up if I was away from him for more than a few days.

            “…Hey, Sydney?”

            “Whatever it is, just spit it out.”

            “Aren’t you curious why I asked you to be a model?”

            “…Well, yeah. Sorta.”

            “Then why won’t you ask?”

            “Because you’re not telling me, duh.”

            I rested my chin in my hands, watching him with a smile.

            “…You’re looking creepy again.”

            “Shall I tell you? No, wait, I’m sure you came up with some theories for yourself. You always have this habit of overthinking things.”

            “Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?” But he relented. “Okay, why?”

            “Tell me what you think first.”

            “You were the one who wanted to tell me!”

            “Relationships are all about give and take. Besides, how can you be sure what you’re thinking isn’t what I thought?”

            He hesitated, but when he finally spoke they were not the words I had expected to hear. “If I tell you, will you go back to sleep? After you finish your breakfast, of course.” My surprise must have shown on my face, because he colored furiously and added, “Get yourself a mirror! You look like you’re gonna collapse any moment!”

            “I do? But I feel perfectly awake… it’s probably because I’m talking to you.”

            “Just promise!”

            “Okay, okay…”

            “…Didn’t you want to make me famous so that I could be on par with you?”

            I hid another smile. “Elaborate.”

            “You know what, I’m wrong. I’ll admit it. So tell me what the real answer is--”

            “—No, you’re spot on.”

            He froze, and I felt a tiny twinge of guilt. As confident as he acted, I knew that deep down, he was still wondering if he was worthy of being my beau. It was just one of the blips that came with super-stardom, when the whole world was openly betting on who you would eventually end up with, and how soon you would get divorced. It sure as hell was not fun, or easy, and I was proud to say Sydney had dealt with it beautifully thus far. But it would not be enough.

            “Sydney… I want you to know that I plan on going public about us soon. Are you okay with that?”

            He took a long time in replying, and when he did he spoke slowly, as though still in the process of unfreezing his mind. “—Is that wise?”

            “To hell with what’s wise and what’s not.” I waved that particular concern off flippantly. “I just want everyone to know that I’ve chosen you, and the only way I’ll ever be available again is if you kick me out.”

            Just briefly, so slight I could have almost missed it, he smiled. An encouraging sign, so I plowed on.

            “The thing is, when I do, there will be a lot of people getting very interested in you. And I won’t be around to chase them away all the time. Maybe by making a name for yourself, you would be able to stand up to them better.” My grin widened. “Of course, I’m still hoping that by then I’ll be the ones getting hounded, ‘How’s it like dating _the_ Sydney?’”

            “Dream on,” he scoffed, but I could see the laughter in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to outshine you before then. Now finish your food and get to bed, because the way you are now, you won’t be giving me much of a challenge.”

            I saluted crisply. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Okay, spill it. What did you tell your boyfriend? He’s suddenly all into his work! Now, I know what I said about him doing well without even trying, but when he actually puts his mind to it--!”

            Alison cornered me the next time we met, and since I could not get a word in edgewise, I just enjoyed myself hearing her rave about Sydney’s improvement. After assuring her I had not blackmailed him into anything, I kept the image of my Sydney working hard for me in my mind, and it kept me smiling the entire day.

            “And you know what the sad part is? I think I’ve gotten used to Kris’ pedo-smile.”

            “If you have that much time to gossip, you should put more effort into your playing,” I told Ryder good-naturedly. “I think you’re rusting.”

            “It’s my old injury acting up,” he whined, but I knew better than to take him seriously. Sure, Ryder had been severely injured before, and there was a time when we wondered if he could ever play again, but he got over that by sheer stubbornness and will.

            “On that note, Kris, wherever did you find the time to keep playing with your studies?” Tyr asked curiously. “You don’t seem to have slacked off as much as Ryder did.”

            “Hey! I heard that.”

            Both of us ignored him.

            “I just play once in a while, that’s all. To relieve stress.”

            “Stress?” Tyr smirked knowingly. “I had no idea you knew the meaning of the word.”

            “Wait, I remember something,” Ashley interrupted suddenly. “The night we moved in, Sydney told me about how you were always trying to teach him how to play the drums, but he thought you were actually using that as an excuse to show off…”

            Now, why hadn’t I noticed that the two of them had hit it off so well?

            “So it’s because of that boy again, huh?” Cal laughed to himself. “Why am I not surprised?”

            It was a good and valid question. Somehow, in a week’s time, my friends had gotten used to the phenomenal change in my priorities, when even I was still trying to wrap my head around how big a part of my life Sydney had become.

            Another three days had passed since our little conversation over breakfast and we have not spoken a single word since, but somehow I felt more assured than I did before. Just the fact that Alison had taken so long to check up on us was proof of how busy things were on Sydney’s side.

           “His new commercial should be showing today,” Alison said with an ill-concealed sense of pride. But of course, no one could be as proud of him as I was. “He still has a ton of other jobs, though, but he seems to be getting the hang of it, so I told him to deal with it himself, because you guys are hard at work too.”

            I smiled. “I’m guessing he got even more fired up after that?”

            “Said something about catching up before you got too far… how did you know?”

            “A lucky guess.” But somehow, not a single person around believed me.

            It was obvious that we had gotten more than a little distracted, and Tyr clapped his hands to bring us back to the present. “You hear that? Even the newbie’s giving his all! Now, are we gonna allow a freshman to show us up?”

            _“No!”_ we hollered in unison, and got our heads back into the game.

            At first, we had only planned to record one single, but since that took much less time than we had anticipated, it was only natural that we decided to up the ante. Even Alison was skeptical when one single became an entire album. To be honest, so was I. Nevertheless, the truth was that after spending so long away from music, most of us had forgotten the exhilaration of playing together, and creating new melodies to call our own.

            It did not hurt that our master composer, Ashley, had a secret stash of songs he had thought up over the past year, written only for us.

            In the past three days, we had recorded two more songs, which was phenomenal even by our standards. But that also meant we had been literally living in the studio, not returning home even once. So even though I had barely slept ten hours in the past seventy-two, I was still buzzing with an electrifying energy as we made our way home.

            Stepping out of the studio was like falling into the rabbit hole. It was way past midnight, but the London nightlife was in full gear. After spending so long cooped up in a soundproof room, all five of us were perfectly synchronized in the way we shirked away from the sudden wave of sound and strobe lights.

            “You guys are like vampires now,” Alison commented drily as we fought to keep our eyes open in the glare. “Except you can’t stand lights at night either.”

            We must have made a truly sorry sight then, but thankfully the condition was not permanent. Ryder had the bright idea of walking home to stretch these woefully underused muscles, and no one was sober enough to protest. Tired as our bodies were, our minds were filled with the triumphant excitement of doing so well on our album, so the weariness did not reach our brains.

            “This place really comes alive at night, doesn’t it?” Ashley laughed, yelling to be heard over the loud music booming from a pub nearby.

            “Mostly it’s just here,” I replied humbly. “Some say Times Square never sleeps.”

            “I can totally believe that,” Ryder said approvingly. “And the people… stiffs in the day, but they sure know how to party at night, don’t they?”

            The crowd was thick even at this ungodly hour, and that meant more cover for us. I did not exactly get called out on the streets every five minutes, but a good number of people here knew perfectly well who I was. And with the other four with me, I was fairly sure we made a conspicuous bunch.

            “Hey, Kris, look!” Cal called excitedly, suddenly pulling my sleeve and gesturing skywards. I followed his gaze and found that he was looking at the huge TV screen that loomed over the entire square, and though I had to squint a little to see past the glare, my eyes widened again almost immediately upon recognizing a familiar face.

            “That’s him.” Alison spoke from somewhere in the distance, sounding as awed as I felt. “Splendid, isn’t it?”

            It was straightforward enough, as commercials go. Just a simple teaser into the upcoming Spring collection from a fairly unknown designer. All they did was choose a model to pose with a few ensembles over a background of flowers and sun—and yet it seemed to me that everyone in the vicinity could not look away.

            “You’re exaggerating again,” Ryder sighed when I suggested it, but even he had to admit Sydney had been stunning. Ashley’s eyes were practically sparkling, and Cal looked mightily impressed. Tyr’s smile just seemed to say, ‘I told you so’.

            “But Ryder’s right, aren’t you being a tad too excited about this?” he felt obliged to add. “After all, you’re not the one on the screen now.”

            “No, but it’s even better when it’s the one you love getting all the attention, isn’t it?” Ashley winked at me mischievously. “Careful, though. You wouldn’t want him to get too much attention, now.”

            “He’s still so new,” Cal said worriedly, still looking at the screen even though it was now broadcasting the latest news. “Is it okay to give him so much exposure so suddenly?”

            “Cal, give me some credit, will you? I wouldn’t get him such a high profile job if I didn’t know he can take the pressure.” Alison waved Cal off, looking a little haughty herself. “Unlike some others I could name, that kid has enough confidence to weather a storm.”

            Of course he did. And of course he would pull it off. Just as he will ace every other job he has set himself on from here on in. I did not need anyone telling me that, and I sure as hell did not want to have to tell anyone that myself. Right now, all I wanted was to run back home, find him, hold him, and be the first one to tell him how proud I was of him.    

            “Kris, slow down!”

            “Save your breath, I don’t think he can hear anything right now--”

            That was not true. My ears were working completely fine, but I simply did not waste my breath on playful banter. It was late, but not too late, so maybe he could still be awake—

            “Wait up—Huh? He stopped.”

            Ryder had been behind me the whole time throughout my full-on sprint, spouting nonsense as he was wont. Not only had he not broken a sweat, he even managed to brake abruptly when I did.

            “Something up?” Ashley caught up next, but he was faster than Ryder at finding the source of the commotion. “Do you know those people? Why are they watching the house?”

            I held them back with a hand, and while Ashley still looked confused, Ryder seemed to understand.

            “We’ll leave this to you,” he gave Ashley a look, and pulled him back to stop the others. That effectively left me alone to face our unsavory visitors.

            “Now, to what do I owe this late night pleasure?”

            There were not as many people as there were last time, but it was still slightly unnerving, even for me, to see half a dozen familiar strangers camped out in the alley opposite my home. Despite being caught red-handed stalking, there was not a hint of guilt in their expressions. All I could see, was the righteous determination.

            “We saw the advertisement,” whispered the one person whose name I knew, Ronald. “His influence is spreading far. Is it because of you?”

            “So what if it is?” My words were terse. “Would you leave on your own accord, or should I call the police and file for a restraining order?”

            “Yes, we heard… you have connections.” In the dim lamplight, his eyes were unnaturally large, unnaturally bright. “But even you can’t be here to protect him forever. He will be punished for his sins… It has been decreed, and we are only happy to oblige.”

            My blood ran cold. “Is that… a threat?”

            “Hardly. It is Fate. Even if we do nothing, surely you cannot expect to keep him by your side forever. Best pull out, before someone else gets hurt.”

            “The only person getting hurt here is you.” Before I could do anything stupid, Ryder materialized behind Ronald, casually putting his arm around the latter’s shoulders. “Unless you disappear in the count of three, two--”

            Ronald threw Ryder off, but his eyes betrayed his fear. Under the moonlight, Ryder looked like a completely different person than he did in the day. Gone was the laidback bad boy that drove teenage girls insane. This was-- at the risk of sounding theatrical-- a denizen of the darkness.

            “We don’t harm innocents,” Ronald snarled at us, but his words sounded shaky. “S-so, enjoy living your happy lie for a little while longer. You’ll have to face reality soon.”

            “Even if I do choose to live in an illusion, it has nothing to do with you,” I announced coldly, and with one final dirty look my way, Ronald led his men off. The silence continued unbroken until they were safely out of sight, and for a minute or so after that. I did not lower my guard until I could be sure they were really gone, but somewhere along the way I became aware of my friends’ presences around me.

            “What was that about?” Ashley was the first one to speak, his tone uncharacteristically solemn. “Why are they after Sydney?”

            “People are still judging him for his past.” Tyr answered him in my place, and I was grateful that they did not question me any further. I had not told any of them about Sydney’s origins, for obvious reasons. Perhaps my thinking that way was selfish, as I had spilled the beans about Ashley so early on in our relationship—but if I was allowed to make excuses, I can safely say Ashley would not mind it quite as much as Sydney would.

            “How long has this been going on?” Ryder still sounded tense, but I knew how much he appreciated a bit of excitement in his life. Sure, he was worried. That did not mean he was not at the same time itching for a fight.

            “The hostility, or the stalking?” I just had to say the word, and Ryder would gladly clean up this entire mess, no strings attached. But that also meant I would have yet another secret to hide from Sydney, because there was no way he would live down owing someone such a big favor. So I held myself in check.

            “Both.”

            “Well, apparently they’ve been watching Sydney for years now, but the actual shadowing and threats only started three weeks ago.” I had first seen them at school, and that had been alarming enough. Now they were literally in our backyard… I gripped my fist tighter. “I have another request. Could you guys stay out of this for now? I’m still trying to sort it out…”

            “Three weeks, and you still haven’t settled it?” Tyr raised an eyebrow, but was polite enough not to mention another clause in my offer. So I had to clarify it myself.

            “I’m asking you to stay out ‘for now’… because I’m not sure if I can handle it all myself. You can be sure as hell I’ll try, though.”

            Cal had been silent until now, but presently he was the one who came up and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “All in favor of pretending nothing happened here?”

            “At least until he comes begging for our help,” Ryder added, but he raised his hand anyway.

            Looking around at their unwavering support, I had to smile, even if it did not quite reach my eyes.

            “Thanks, guys. Really…I’m glad you’re here.”

 

The porch light was still on, but the rest of the house was painfully dark. I did not know if he had simply gone to bed early today, or if Ronald and co had caused me to miss him again. If it was the latter… somehow or another, I was going to make them pay.

            While the others went to the washroom or raided the fridge, I went straight to the living room. The fire was crackling merrily away in the hearth, illuminating his back wrapped up in his sleeping bag. He did not turn around when I came in, did not even flinch when I sat down on the carpet next to him.

            He must have been tired. Or…

            “If you want to pretend, I’ll go along with you,” I whispered into his ear, and still he did not budge. So he really was asleep… all the better, then.

            Just a moment, I only need a short break… I lay down on the soft carpet and wrapped my arms around him, savoring the sensation of him so close to me. Just for a while…

 

“—Hey. Hey, get off. …Are you really that tired?” A sigh. “If you can’t take it, then don’t push yourself… You really are asleep, right? Because if you’re pretending—

            “…Huh, guess you’re not. Then you won’t be able to hear me either… but I’m going to say it anyway. I sound like an idiot, talking to myself, and you know how much I hate repeating myself, so listen carefully—

            “I’m only letting you do this once, okay? Just this once. As a reward for working so hard.

            “…You can hold me until you wake up.

            “…Idiot.”

            I smiled to myself, and buried my face deeper into his hair.

            “He must be having a nice dream… What about, I wonder?”


	12. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When life is changing too fast for you to keep track of...

I opened my eyes groggily, my vision still blurry at the edges. Damn, how much sleep did I get this time…?

                Judging by the brightness of the world outside the window, I wasn’t going to get anymore.

                “…Do you have to go already?”

                “Unlike some people, I work nine to five.” With one hand, I reached for my shirt from where it had been stuffed under the couch in the heat of the night, and with the other I pushed my boyfriend’s head back into bed. “I’ll get breakfast ready. Though knowing you, it’d be lunch by the time you eat it.”

                “I want to eat with you…”

                “No,” I said firmly. “If you miss out on any more sleep because of me, Alison is going to insist I move into her place. Or would you rather want that?”

                Considering how little time we’d gotten to spend together recently, I figured that would be the last thing on his wish list right now. After all, I was pretty sure he took our time apart harder than I did, proven by the way he clung onto me last night.

                “…Okay.” He relented, with the same silly smile he always had whenever I did something for him. “But can I have one last thing?”

                “Hmm?” I was distracted, trying to catch a glimpse at the clock on the mantelpiece. Crap, it was already half past eight—

                “…Kiss.”

                I looked back at him wordlessly, only to see that he had his eyes closed and his face stretched towards me. Sometimes I couldn’t understand the nerve of this guy-- two of his friends were still soundly asleep beside us, and he—

                “Hurry.”

                “Tsk.” I quickly bent down and brushed my lips lightly over his, but as soon as we touched he seemed to pinpoint my position without opening his eyes, hugging me tightly and dragging me back into bed. “Kris--!”

                His arms slackened the moment his head hit the pillow, and he even started snoring softly. I stared.

                Damn that guy—if he was that tired, why couldn’t he sleep in his own bed?!

                Now, I don’t know what you readers out there are thinking, but nothing was as good as it sounded. When I say ‘bed’, I meant my futon on the floor, recently upgraded from a sleeping bag since Kris insisted on accidentally-on-purpose sleeping with me every night. At first I told him it was only once, but he didn’t seem to have heard me, and well… you know how I hate repeating myself.

                And then there was that. When I say ‘sleeping with me’, I mean sleeping. With me. No hanky-panky, no unnecessary contact, only him hugging me like a bolster throughout the night. Well, since it got a bit crowded with the four of us sleeping on the living room floor, sometimes I’d be sleeping on top of him… and yes, I mean literally on top.

                As you can imagine, it gets quite stuffy sometimes, especially when the fireplace is still warm. Hence, the issue with my missing shirt. So in conclusion, everything was perfectly innocent. And though I had grumbled my fair share about exactly how hands-off he could be, right now I didn’t think I had the energy to do anything even if he let me. We were just that worn out.

                My phone vibrated on the mantelpiece, so I grabbed it along with my hairband, hit ‘answer’ and clamped it between my ear and my shoulder as I tried to simultaneously talk, tie my hair, and avoid stepping on Cal on my way out.

                “Alison? Yeah, obviously I’m awake… So now it starts at one?” I cursed inwardly. If she had just told me earlier I could have stayed in bed…

                “Fine, I’ll be there early. What—Okay, okay. Sheesh, I’ll just find something else to do in the meantime—I do have a life outside work, you know!” Or at least, I think I do. I probably do.

                After hanging up on my manager’s incessant whining, the first thing I did with my extra free time was put more effort into breakfast. I had gotten used to making six people’s portions, and I never said I was a bad cook by any means, but I had tasted Ryder’s cooking. If they left particularly late for work, he’d prepare dinner for me just as I did lunch for them. And I was pretty sure my food didn’t taste as good cold as his did.

                Actually, weren’t teen celebrities supposed to be a bunch of spoiled rich brats who have to be waited on hand and foot? I reflected on this common misconception as I stirred the gravy for my mashed potatoes. It was slightly unfair how the members of TRACK were perfectly self-sufficient despite their fame and fortune. Of course I had known for a long time now that Kris was a completely independent college kid, but the others were also so well-rounded it was scary.

                Ryder cooked, Tyr did the laundry, and Ashley was a total clean freak. Apparently a neighbor had some nieces over the other day, and they had squealed the whole street down seeing the dreamy Caelan Alaster beating out the carpets. Yeah, even I had to do a double take when they used Cal’s full name. No one ever called him that. Not even me.

                Anyways, as I was saying. I was getting used to having them around, even if I barely ever saw them, or Kris, for that matter. Living life as I had, I had always been quick to adapt to changes. As an orphan with no legal guardians and a mob that treated you as Satan’s spawn, I needed to be constantly on my toes, or the next time I fall, I might just not get up.

                But these past few months had been so hectic, that in the rare few quiet moments I got, I reflected on the massive changes in my life and felt my brain begin to lag.

                In less than three months, I started going regularly to school, actually catching up a bit in my studies, performed a play, took a bona fide leave from school and was currently making a big splash in the fashion world as the year’s hottest new model. And it all came down one thing—my dating Kristian Hart.

                Maybe that was the part I found hardest to believe sometimes. Not only that we were together, but that we seem to be taking this seriously. Both of us. A celebrity dating and dumping a commoner for fun was common news. And it wasn't every day you kiss a stranger on the street, and not only does he turn out to be a celebrity, but he also turns out to be a celebrity that says he loves you and means every word.

                But perhaps the rarest thing, the most unbelievable part, was that I’d replied him the same way a few times now, and realized it wasn't a lie.

                For the first time in my life, I was serious about someone. I enjoyed being around him, I liked the way he’d talk to me, or say my name. I even didn’t hate the idea of life with him, forever.

                Was that what it meant to be in love…?

                I pondered that over, staring into space for a few minutes, before the smell of something burning assaulted my senses.

                “Shit, the potatoes…”

 

So that day I served six portions of roast chicken without the mash. Well, I guess I should be grateful I had the time to make the chicken in the first place. Though I wondered how Ryder would take to me raiding his ingredients.

                Eating my brunch by myself, I had considered waking Kris up. After all, I wasn't in a hurry anymore. But then I remembered that the clock had barely struck six when they got back, so if I wanted him to get his rightful seven hours of sleep, I should at least keep him in bed until one. Although considering how little sleep they’d all gotten recently… perhaps I should just let them sleep it out.

                At half past ten I found myself with nothing left to do. I couldn’t turn on the portable telly Tyr had bought without waking up the people in the living room, and I couldn’t raid Kris’ bookshelves without disturbing the ones upstairs. The whole house was dim and quiet, like a nursery during naptime. I even began nodding off onto the table, until I remembered how much of a hassle it would be if I showed up at work looking drowsy.

                Finally, I decided to stretch out the walk to work in an attempt to kill time and clear my head.

                “Oh, yeah, it’s already February…” A digital clock in a shop display reminded me of the date. Something niggled at the back of my mind—there was something important coming up soon. I had noted it down on the calendar recently…

                Ah, well, I’ll just have to remember to look it up again when I got home. I shrugged to myself, attracting a few odd glances. No one recognized me, though, mostly due to my get-up for today—iridescent sunglasses and a large straw hat. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly inconspicuous for a walk on a cold February morning, but at least no one would associate me to the face on what seemed to be every other billboard in town.

                --I’ll say it again, that manager of mine was ridiculously efficient. At this rate, who knows when I’ll get another day off…

                So I made the most of my few hours free, and arrived at work at five past one.

                “You’re late!” The aforementioned manager grabbed my hand exasperatedly as soon as I stepped into the lobby of the hotel that was to be the location of my next shoot. “And just when I was feeling guilty for waking you so early… Wait! You did that on purpose, didn’t you?!”

                I never got to reply as we had barged into a large dining hall at that precise moment, but to put an end to her suspicions I rolled my eyes at her before anyone else noticed us. The unspoken message was clear: Duh.

                And I had chosen my timing impeccably, because just then all she could do was grit her teeth, maybe flip her hair at me at most. After all, we were already behind schedule, and it was up to her to explain it to the clients.

                “I’m terribly sorry, our model isn’t that good with directions, you see… Although as Sydney’s manager I admit I should have sent a guide.”

                Here was another person who could tell a lie without batting an eyelid. Sure, I might never be a cartographer, but please. I’ve lived here for as long as I can remember. And a place this grand—I could find it with my eyes closed.

                “So you’re Sydney?” The client was a freelance designer who was creating quite a buzz amongst youngsters these days. I remember Alison said his name was… Cianán? Somehow it fit him quite nicely. “Pardon my rudeness, but I have to ask… Are you a man or a woman?”

                I knew Alison had been quite adamant about the ‘mystery appeal ‘ part, and I supposed it worked. In my first ad I had done both the men’s and women’s lines, the clients’ excuse being that they were too small-time to afford hiring two models. And to be honest, I was starting to feel numb about the cross-dressing bit.

                Whatever rocks their boat, I guess. It wasn't as though I didn’t have my fair share of kinks, so I shouldn’t judge anyone else about theirs. Although if Kris was seriously going to make a habit out of it, I would really have to give him a piece of my mind.

                “So, what’s the job?” I ignored his question and asked flippantly, checking my watch. Kris may have mentioned something about having the day off, I’ll ask Alison about that later. If it was true, I was going to try to settle this as quickly as possible, and maybe I’d still have time to stop by the market to make up for the food I had stolen before Ryder noticed.

                “Sydney!” Alison hissed at me. “Could you at least _try_ to be civilized?”

                “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” said the present client with a laugh. It was a pleasant enough sound, so I really looked at him for the first time. No wonder all the young ones were falling over each other to get his clothes. There was a refined elegance about him, as though he was an artist designed by another. In fact, everything about him had that sophisticated artsy feel, from his wavy dark hair to his chiseled jaw and carefully crumpled shirt.

                “Why don’t you guess?” I was suddenly curious. What was his first impression of me?

                He mused it over. “Promise you won’t get offended, though?”

                “I won’t.” Honest. I just wanted to know what the average Joe thought of my ad. Of course, the first person I had asked for opinions was Kris, and of course I couldn’t count on him to give me an unbiased answer. Guess I just had to ask someone else.

                “I’d go with both, or neither.” He grinned, showing rows of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. Sheesh, why won’t he be his own model? I was nearly blinded by the sparkles. “You’re like something out of a fantasy, something that can’t be defined by human terms—an elf, perhaps.”

                “Elf, huh?” That sounded interesting. “So we’re doing a Lord of the Rings shoot?”

                “Not quite.” He laughed again, and I think I saw some of the nearby waitresses swoon. “But fantasy-themed, yes. As the promotional poster for my new collection.”

                “And we’re doing it in a hotel?” I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, but I don’t quite see the sense of it.”

                “Oh, don’t worry. You will.”

 

And with those enigmatic words, I was sent off to put on the centerpiece outfit.

                “An elf, huh? I’m beginning to see his point.” Alison adjusted a few of the leaves in my hair and stood back to appraise me. Now I was just guessing here, but I was pretty sure she liked it. Something about the way she couldn’t keep her fingers off me.

                “That’s enough, Ali!”

                “Okay, okay, chill,” she giggled. “It’s just your clothes— For all the skin you show, even I can barely tell if you’re a guy or a girl.”

                I scowled self-consciously. Anyone who’d met me for even a day would know I wasn't exactly conservative in my dressing, but this… As opposed to things that either showed nothing or bared everything, this kind of flimsy silk— toga just showed enough to make people wonder what was under it, and most likely guess wrong.

                Heck, even when I looked into the mirror, I couldn’t tell what I was!

                The make-up added to the eerie otherworldliness of my persona, but I only felt as though I was truly living a fantasy when Alison led me to the actual shooting location. Instead of eternity pools like nearly every tall building boasted of these days, this hotel had a sprawling rooftop garden.

                I had never seen that much green in one place, and it was pretty impossible to believe that we were very much still in the grey heart of London. The dim sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, dying the ground emerald-gold. How do trees this huge grow up here, anyway?

                As I was trying to figure the physics behind it all, we had wandered into the depths of the sort-of forest, to a clearing between the trees that looked as though it had been taken straight out of the pages of a storybook.

                A large tree had fallen over, and its body was now covered with moss. But where its arms had been cut off, new branches grew, the new leaves greener and fresher amongst the old. There was a certain ancientness and tragedy about it, but there was also life, and hope for the future.

                “All it needs is an elf.” Cianán had apparently been waiting for some time now, but somehow I had completely missed him amongst the trees. Now, however, I could not look away, especially when he handed me a huge wooden bow. “For perfection.”

                “I just have to pose with it, right? Cuz I’ve never shot anything like this in my life.” I took the bow and a basket of arrows suspiciously. It felt heavy, and real enough… but were these things even legal anymore? Maybe after the shoot was done, I could convince him to let me bring it home. Kris would get a kick out of it, and maybe even let me aim a few at Ryder…

                Practice makes perfect, right? Who knows, I might even take up archery after this.

                I kicked off my shoes and leapt nimbly onto the tree trunk. The moss felt fuzzy and wet under my feet, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. On the client’s cue, I started a variety of poses, and the camera’s flash illuminated the forest in brief second-long intervals.

                “Good… Yes… Wonderful!”

                After some time, I got bored. This was no challenge at all, never was. All the clients, all the jobs so far, they never asked anything more from me. I just did my thing, and they’d go crazy for it. It was getting old, to be honest.

                Kris would tell me I was a natural. Alison would tell me to be myself, because I was the one the client had chosen, and with reason. I just had to believe in that reason, even if I didn’t know what it was. The something in me that had caught the client’s eye, that special thing that only I had.

                The sun hid temporarily before a cloud, and darkness descended upon the shoot. Great, the light was just starting to irritate me, and now all that was left was that annoying camera flash—

                Eyes narrowing slyly, I smirked and aimed an arrow at the lens.

                _Flash!_ It went off one last time, and then the cameraman had to duck for cover. I snapped my fingers in frustration. Fine, so my aim needed more work. Though I couldn’t see how they were going to allow me any opportunities to practice.

                “Wait! Let me see that!”

                Before the unfortunate cameraman could launch himself at me, Cianán pushed him into the mud again and grabbed the camera. I watched him curiously, and saw his eyes widen by the second.

                “This is it! This is the one I’ll use!”

                What, the one with the arrow flying at it? My curiosity finally getting the better of me, I peeped over his shoulder, ignoring the cameraman’s mumbled curses. As usual, seeing myself through a camera was nothing like seeing my reflection in the mirror. It had something to do with the lighting, or the angle or the insert-some-technical-term-I-don’t-give-a-shit about.

                In the picture, the arrow was just moments away from the lens, but what caught my eye was the glimpse of the figure behind it. That something was smiling mischievously up at us, as though letting loose an arrow was its idea of a joke. I say ‘it’, because even though it had two eyes, a nose and a mouth, there was something in its expression that just wasn't human, and not quite elf, either—

                “—An Asura,” Cianán breathed.

                “A _what_?”

                “Asura, the dark deities in Buddhist lore,” he continued on in the same fervent whisper, but since his eyes never left the screen it was more like he was talking to himself. “They’re the dark gods, born from people who had good intention but gave in to temptation and did bad things. Proud but condescending, powerful in body yet weak in mind, they look down on the world as their playthings. Most of the time, it reflects in their appearance, because they are fearsome but hideous beings.

                “But once in a few lifetimes, one is born of absolute beauty-- beautiful enough even to capture the heart of the King of Gods.”

 

Alison was so pleased with that explanation, she announced that from now on, that was to be my new stage name. And then she got a call from a popular entertainment magazine wanting to interview TRACK about their upcoming surprise album, and bolted.

                …Guess Kris wasn't getting the day off, huh?

                I had rushed the shoot—and aced it, if I may say so myself-- but for the second time that day, all I did was find myself with more time than I knew what to do with. Maybe I should call up Roger for a night at the arcade or something…

                “…Sydney. Or should I call you Asura?”

                I was in the middle of undressing when Cianán spoke up behind me. Of course, I had been fully aware of his presence since the moment he let himself into my dressing room without knocking. As quietly as he moved, his reflection showed up perfectly enough in my mirror.

                “Up to you. I don’t mind, seeing as we’ll probably never meet each other again after today.” I slipped off the flimsy robes, stretching a little to loosen my joints. Damn, even though all I had done was a few poses here and there, my body was aching all over—the lack of rest these past few days must have really taken their toll.

                “Oh, on the contrary. I fancy we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

                “Why? Come to think of it, if you have any other jobs for me, I might as well take them now. Better than staying at home alone…”

                “Are you really oblivious, or are you seducing me? Either way, it’s cute.” He was too close now, close enough for me to feel his breath in my ear. “Personally, I’m leaning towards the latter. Your reputation precedes you, my Asura.”

                “What are you rambling about?” I kept my voice level. “I’ll admit, I’m no blushing virgin. But sorry, I’m just not interested in you right now.”

                “Maybe later, then?” He brushed his lips against the back of my neck, which I didn’t like quite as much as I would have a few months ago. “I don’t mind waiting until you chase away the flies attracted to your scent. Flowers as precious as you are only meant to be savored by the most elegant butterflies.”

                That line was so obnoxious I couldn’t help but smirk. What did he think he was, a Monarch? “Just out of curiosity… you have figured my gender out by now, haven’t you? Still interested?”

                “As I said, gender doesn’t matter.” His words sounded distantly familiar. “Man or woman, you’re still you.”

                That sounded like—I stared at Cianán’s reflection in the mirror. Now that I actually thought about it, he reminded me rather a bit of Kris. And yet, they were so utterly different. How different, I couldn’t say. All I knew was, right there and then, I wanted to find Kris and put as much distance as I could between me and Cianán.

                “Come now, surely you’re just playing hard to get?” His fingers had wandered down my back, exploring places I had once charged free admission, but had somehow kept untouched for months. My skin prickled in their wake, with an uneasiness I had never before felt.

                What was wrong with me? Why was my body reacting this way?

                “The way you act, the way you dress,” he whispered into my ear, the hot breath making my blood run cold. “For an amateur, you sure know how this field works. Or maybe… I’m the amateur here, hmm?”

                “…What do you know?” There was something else behind his sweet murmurs, a dark foreboding I couldn’t ignore anymore. “This is the first time we’ve met, isn’t it?”

                “As expected of my Asura, you’ve known so many men you can no longer tell for sure which ones are strangers and which were playmates.” He licked the tip of my ear, and my body finally unfroze, shoving him away as though in a reflex.

                I didn’t exactly work out, but I knew my own strength. That was why I wasn't nearly as surprised as he was when he went flying into a clothes rack, and could take opportunity of the time he spent recovering from his shock to grab my clothes.

                “Quit playing around!” Apparently Mr Hotshot Designer didn’t get manhandled often, because his composure cracked easily under my gaze. Twisted in anger, his features didn’t look quite so dreamy now. “Everyone knows you’re just a cheap lay! So stop acting like you’re Cinderella!”

                “Who told you that?” It wasn't exactly a secret, I figured, but the slumyard grapevine wasn't likely to reach this far. Someone had spilled the beans on me specifically to this guy.

                “People who know you for what you are.” His smile was cruel, his gaze hard as he slowly closed in on me again. “People who have enjoyed the forbidden fruit, and are glad to share it.”

                And immediately it clicked.

                “Was it a middle-aged guy, calls himself Ronald?”

                “No.”

                “Must be someone he knows, then.” Or someone he orders around. Somehow Ronald had risen in the ranks of my little anti-fan club, and with him as leader, they’d gotten even crazier and even dumber. “They’re using you, you know. To try and get to me.”

                “They spoke highly of you.”

                “That thing you said about the forbidden fruit? They tasted it, and they liked it. They beat themselves up about it, and announced to the world that they will redeem themselves by destroying it, but in truth they just don’t want anyone else to know what it tastes like.” I couldn’t help but smile. How absolutely adorable of them.

                “And you think I’d let myself be used, just like that?”

                My smile vanished.

                “I don’t care what their intentions are. I don’t care if I am playing into their hands. I was fascinated by you from the moment I saw your commercial, and then what they told me just made me that much more curious. What would you be like? Are you as precious as they say? The answer is no.

                “You’re that much more.”

                I tried to move towards the exit, but he blocked the entire doorway easily with his powerful body.

                “I can see that you don’t take them seriously, either. Fine by me, those people were just a minor distraction. The main attraction here is you. And I’m telling you now, I’m not as easily brushed aside. Not unless you want to survive in the modeling world.”

                I stopped. “…Are you threatening me with my career?”

                “You catch on quickly,” he cooed approvingly. “You would be surprised how many people in this business take my advice seriously. Which fabric not to use, for example. Which factory not to trust. Which model not to consider, not even for a second. You’re promising, but to make it far, you have to make a few compromises--”

                It was too much. I threw my head back and laughed.

                Credit where it was due, though, he didn’t exactly fly off the handle this time. He just stood there, still resolutely blocking the exit, with a bemused look until I stopped. “Care to share the joke?”

                “Sure, why not?” How many times had he used that as his trump card to get all the beauties he could want? I betcha it was the first time one of his models had reacted the way I did. “The joke here, dear designer, is that I don’t give a shit about my career. I’m just doing it because someone asked me nicely. And that very same someone would take it back immediately and just as quickly shove it down your throat if you tried anything funny.”

                He raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t mind if you never get a job again, as long as that someone is happy? He must be very special to you, then, for you to go through all this trouble on his whim.”

                “Yes, he is.” So special, my body was rejecting every touch that wasn't his, even if he barely touched me anywhere exciting. “And it’s not a whim. He doesn’t do anything on a whim.”

                If I had thought I would finally get him to lose his cool, I would be sorely mistaken. He just looked thoughtful, and maybe even –oh, god, no—a little happy.

                “Someday, I’ll make you talk about me the same way you talk about him. With your eyes alight, your cheeks slightly flushed--”

                “—I do _not--”_

“And your heart beating faster than you would let it.” He was looking straight at me intently, just like Kris would whenever he thought I wasn't paying attention. “Keep yourself safe until then. Those people we had discussed—they are not to be taken lightly.”

                “I’m not afraid of them.”

                “Indeed, your expression says you’ve seen it all.” He tilted his head to one side, but I was getting used to his stares. Maybe he wasn't a completely bad person, after all. “Once, perhaps, you had swum the River Styx and come back invincible. But now, there is a hole in your armor. A new weakness.”

                “A weakness?” I feigned ignorance, but deep inside I already knew precisely what he was talking about.

                “When something is important enough to fight for, it becomes a way for the enemy to bait you into battle. You had better keep an eye on that special someone, because through him, anyone can get to you.”

                “It’d be interesting to see them try.” My heartbeat eased a little at the thought of anyone trying to pull a number on Kris, especially with his friends around him. It would be a one-sided affair. “He can take care of himself just fine.”

                “Such heartless words.” Cianán stepped aside on his own accord, even opening the door for me with a bow. “But remember, if he is as worth your devotion as I sincerely hope he is, then he has an Achilles Heel, too.”

 

As expected, the house was empty when I got back. Ah, well. Since I had tomorrow off, I might as well try to stay up.

                Dinner was cold fish and chips, and Ryder had left a Post-it Note demanding the missing chicken. I smiled to myself as I played with the tartar sauce. Who in their right mind would still use these, when they had Wifi?

                His handwriting was clean and powerful, as opposed to Kris’ slightly cursive, but very proper script. Kris was another weird one, preferring to write his assignments by hand whenever he could. On those late nights when we worked together side by side, the darkness illuminated only by my oil lamp, I would find myself getting distracted, staring him in fascination as he wrote for ages.

                When he finally noticed me looking, he would smile faintly, as though flattered, and then put on a stern tone that was even more unconvincing than usual.

_“Sydney, if you have the time to watch me, shouldn’t you have finished your work by now?”_

Ahh, I really wanted to hear him call me by name again. After the incident that afternoon with Cianán, I didn’t know if I could ever have anyone address me as ‘Asura’ again without gagging. Although, maybe if Kris was the one saying it, I’d think differently—

                Sometime into the night, I fell asleep on the table, only to be awoken by my ringtone. Rubbing my eyes drowsily, I could just make out enough of the clock to see it was three in the morning.

                They were so late—could that be why he was calling me, to tell me that he wouldn’t make it back tonight?

                But that’s not the ringtone I set for him…

                “Hello…?”

                _“…Sydney, right?”_

A woman? “Yeah, that’s--”

                _“…If you want to know what’s best for Kristian Hart, listen carefully.”_

All traces of sleepiness gone, I sat up straighter in my chair, but already my heart was sinking…


	13. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You think you know, but you really don't...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed a day, I know... Was rereading the story I got saved up so far and thinking twice about sharing... Please, if you like it, or if you don't, give me heads-up! >

Recently, I seemed to be spending an alarming amount of time waking up, more than I was sleeping.

            How long had we stayed up this time? I could not even remember getting back home, but this was my living room floor, make no mistake. My body felt colder than usual, though, so Sydney must have gotten up by now…

            I glanced at the clock, something else I had found myself doing with increasing regularity. Goodness knows my own biological clock had gone haywire.

            Evening, huh? At least there was still daylight. Alison mentioned that Sydney had the day off, and I had made big plans for today, but then again he would never let me get out of bed until I was sufficiently rested, so I suppose we just had to make the most of whatever time we had left.

            “Syd--?”

            I headed straight for the kitchen, but there was no sign of him. Instead, there was a box of cereal, a carton of milk, and what looked like a Post-it Note under a bowl on the table. I smiled to myself and took a seat. Now, when had he started handwriting things?

            It was a good thing I read the note before anything else, for example pouring the milk.

 

 _Kris,_     

_Don’t come looking._

_Take care. Sorry._

I have no idea how long I sat there, frozen in my seat. Long enough for the sun to set completely. Long enough for the others to wake up, one by one, and discover the horrible truth.

            “H-he’s taken all his things…except these.” Ashley was pale, sounding almost as shaken as I would have if I could just find my voice. And in his hand was a bunch of keys. “I found these on the porch…”

            Ryder burst in through the front door, followed closely by Cal. “Are you sure this is the right address? The place is completely deserted!”

            “The neighbors didn’t see anyone leaving…”

            “There must be a reason.” Tyr was calm, as per usual, but he alone was not enough to reassure everyone in the team. Normally, when the others were on the verge of panic, he would be the one to get their attention, and I would then pull them back down to solid earth with logic.

            Except no amount of logic could wake me from this nightmare.

            “Kris, you have to hold yourself together!” Tyr held me by the shoulders, as though physically rooting me to the ground could stop my mind from flying off the tracks. “Maybe he was forced. Could he be in danger? You can’t afford to lose your cool when he needs you the most.”

            Yes, of course, he was right… He must have been threatened, that must be it…

            And if so, I knew exactly who to blame.

            “Oh, I know that look.” Ryder’s face split into a dangerous grin, and at times like these I would not have been surprised to see sharpened points on those teeth. “Someone’s gonna pay. The same people you let off easy last time?”

            I nodded slowly. “They won’t get away this time.”

            “I always said you were a real softie deep down,” Ashley laughed, but there was something chilling in the sound. He must have figured out the truth. Maybe Sydney had told him himself, on those bonding bedtime chats I never had any clue about. Because there was one thing I knew for sure.

            Not many things make good-natured Ashe angry. And usually, I was perfectly content keeping things that way. An angry Ashley was not a pleasant sight.

            Today, I wanted to feed that rare fire and make it my strength.

            “Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Tyr interrupted, “I want to clarify some things. Kris, you’re saying you’ve confronted them before? And they know who you are?”

            “Yes. Even they’re not that clueless.”

            “And yet they went on with it anyway?”

            “Yes.” I managed a grin, even though it did not reach my eyes. It was plain to see where this was going.

            “…I understand. Well, then, they obviously don’t take TRACK seriously. Challenge accepted.”

            For someone who had started TRACK for his own benefits, Tyr had gotten rather protective of it over the years.

            “Kris, can I ask you one more question?” Cal finally broke his silence. “You said… that they’ve been after Sydney since forever, right? So why-- why did they get him this time?”

            And there it was. The question I had been trying to avoid, the answer to which had come to me from the moment I read the letter.

            “…Because of me. They must have used me to get to him.”

            Everything fell silent. No one tried to argue, or ask how I could be so sure. It was obvious. Before I met him, before he came into my life, he was alone. Defenseless. And also—completely invulnerable. Because how do you hurt someone who had nothing to lose?

            And then, slowly, selfishly, I had changed that.

            “I like Sydney well enough, but face it, Kris, I’m not fond enough of him to go head to head with a bunch of fanatics for him.” There was a steeliness in Cal’s eyes that should not have been there. But that was our Caelan, the youngest and yet sometimes the most mature of us all. “So I want you to know—I’m doing this all for you. Oh, and when you get him back, you can tell him that for me, too.”

            Somehow I found it in me to laugh, although it sounded rather tragic even to me. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want it any other way.”

            “So are we done with the chit-chat?” Ryder cracked his knuckles in a way that would have been comical had I not been perfectly capable of imagining those same fists connecting with someone’s face. “Then let’s go kick some stalker butt!”

            “Ryder, you’re forgetting the point…” Ashley sounded exasperated, and that reminded me of something.

            “Hey, Ashe, do you think Lea would mind if I ask her for a favor?”

           

The first person I tracked down was the one who had turned a blind eye to my complaints of stalkers at the school gate. And so I arranged a meeting with the principal, Mr Moran.

            --who led me straight to his secretary.

            “Why hadn’t I received the complaints?” Moran’s fury knew no bounds. “Do you know how serious a matter this is? A student’s safety is at stake here!”

            “Oh, I think she knows it well enough.” I met the woman’s eyes, and was almost pleased to see she did not even flinch. “Do you mind if we borrow her for a moment? You’ll have your secretary back in no time.”

            Moran looked skeptical, but after such a blunder on the school’s part, he had no right to refuse us such a harmless request. So I did my best to smile reassuringly at him as Ryder and Tyr escorted his secretary into a dark corner of the school grounds, while Cal and Ashley stood guard a distance away.

            “What do you want with me?” she hissed, with more venom than I would have expected from a woman her age and health. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

            “You terrorized an innocent young man.” My voice was colder than I had ever heard it. Ryder even shuddered a little exaggeratedly. As though his eyes were not hell frozen over.

            “Innocent?” she cackled. “If that boy is innocent, then we are all fools! He was poisoning the minds of our children with his sins, his lies!”

            “And what proof do you have?” Every second I spent here interrogating the old hag was another second I could have been actually searching for Sydney, but I knew my patience would pay off eventually. To destroy thy enemy, one must first learn the way they think. The reasons for which they fight. “Without proof, all your words are nothing more than white noise.”

            “Proof? You ask me for proof?” Her voice trembled with indignation. “He was sacrificed to Satan! And now the children bow at his feet, letting him trample all over them with his filthy--”

            “He was rescued from death by a madman’s hand.” I hated having to explain, but if I did things the way Ryder undoubtedly wanted me to, it would only prove all the misconceptions these people had of Sydney. “And he never wanted the attention your daughter showered on him.”

            She seemed to freeze. “How did you--”

            “—know that your daughter is my boyfriend’s number one fan?” I smiled at her humorlessly. “There must be a limit to how much you can underestimate me. I am also aware of how your relationship with her has been strained since your divorce. And I am quite curious to know exactly how she would react if she found out you played a direct part in the disappearance of her idol.”

            “I—I don’t know anything about that!” Amazing how quickly someone’s demeanor could change when I played the card closest to her heart. Her hatred for Sydney was directly proportionate to her daughter’s admiration for him, because in her mind, all that attention should have been spent on her.

            “She’s pretending you don’t exist. I can change that. I can make her hate you so much, she won’t look at anyone else…”

            “Please! I really have no idea!” She fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands. “I only wanted her to see him for what he really was, or at least to get him away from her, from this school! I didn’t think they would actually hurt him--!”

            “I know.” And I did, because this one was still only small fry. Hers was not amongst the faces I saw amongst the shadows behind my home. But I knew she would know someone else who was. “Tell me who the others are, and I can ask Sydney to put in a few good words for you. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

            After we safely escorted her back to the principal’s office, Ryder asked the question I knew he was dying to ask. “Are you really sure he won’t mind?”

            “He barely notices the girl anyway. I just have to casually mention that the principal’s secretary is her mother, and when he gets curious he will naturally ask her.”

            “That’s cheating,” he said approvingly. “By the way, are they all wussies like that?”

            “No. She was a mild one. Some of them are… not so easily persuaded.”

            Ryder grinned. “Perfect.”

 

Holding a list of the cult’s core members, we began our hunt.

            “If we had him, do you seriously think we would tell you where?” sneered Aaron Powell, who was unfortunate enough to be on the top of the list. From what little he was willing to show us of his apartment, I could tell that he had known better times.

            “Just one question. Why do you hate Sydney?”

            “The same reason why most people do.” His eyes flashed. “Because he’s a dirty, cheap prick. Anything else?”

            Wordlessly I stepped aside, and let Ryder continue the conversation.

            It took less than half an hour. The final conclusion: he was truly oblivious to Sydney’s whereabouts, or what plans the other members might have for him. Ashley was even kind enough to leave him some medication, but we could not let him treat Powell.

            We had a schedule to keep to here.

            The next person was the executive director of a large company, whom we could not even meet without a prior appointment.

            “I have to say, Kris, Sydney sure knows a lot of people,” Tyr commented as he waited for someone to pick up on the other side. “Arthur? Yes, it’s me. Yes, yes… Of course they are, I left them in your capable hands. But we’ll discuss that another time. For now, I need you to do a quick check on--” He glanced at the plaque hanging above the office lot we had just been kicked out of. “Burton and Brook, London. Yes, I thought so—Put in a call to the executive director for me, would you?”

            “Using the company for private purposes, is that okay?” Cal asked dubiously.

            As the General Manager of the multimillion, multinational De Gere Group, Tyr had a hand in practically every pie around the world. And as the rightful owner, Ashley only shrugged his indifference.

            “He swears he knows nothing.” In that short time we were distracted, Tyr had completed his call and interrogation.

            “How can you be sure he’s not lying?” Ryder demanded. It seemed that he had not been satisfied with the workout he had earlier.

            “I threatened to buy over his company.” Tyr sounded flippant, but he held himself with the authority of a man in power. “And I told him that if we don’t find Sydney in a month, I’ll do it anyway.”

            I smiled grimly. “If we do?”

            “Well, the one month is just the time we need to deal with the paperwork quietly. I already have Arthur on it. Besides, I have always considered getting another office in London.”

            So that was that.

            By the time we found our next target, Sydney had been missing for at least 27 hours. But for once, I tried to forget the numbers and focus on the job at hand.

            “I remember her.” I stared across the street at the young housewife hanging out the laundry with her little son running around her legs. “A good Christian, stopping at nothing to remove the world of its sinners.”

            “Or so she claims.” This time, the one who stepped forth was Cal, marching across the road resolutely as soon as the housewife’s back was turned. We watched from a distance as he walked up to the child, bending over to speak to him. Eventually Cal picked the boy up expertly, and turned to his mother instead. Whatever he said, we had no idea, but the woman’s face lost all its color within minutes.

            And when Cal returned, he was still carrying the boy.

            “You guys go ahead.” His expression, kind and friendly whenever he spoke to the boy, turned dark and stormy when the child was not looking. “We have to make a trip downtown. I don’t want Tim to be with his mother any more than he has to.”

            Only one thing ever got Cal as upset as that, and I was not surprised that he picked up on it even from such a distance. “Is he hurt badly?”

            “It’s not something we can see, or measure.” Cal’s voice was solemn, but as soon as the boy tugged on his sleeve, all the clouds vanished from his face. “Hey, Timmy. Would you like an ice-cream before we meet the good guys in blue?”

            Someone about to be charged for child abuse was not going to want any more skeletons in her closet revealed at inconvenient times. On that assumption, I decided that she, too, was out of the loop.

            As the trail went colder, I agreed reluctantly to follow Cal and his new friend to the station. But despite everything Tyr said to convince me, I refused to report Sydney’s disappearance.

            “Why not?” Tyr demanded. “You suspect he’s in danger, don’t you? And he’s a minor… they would give this case priority!”

            “You’re worried about how the police will see it?” Cal spoke quietly, having seen Tim safely off into the hands of Child Services. “Regardless, they can’t deny that Sydney is the victim here. No one will buy the religious angle. And if they claim he seduced them… they would be walking straight into a statutory rape charge.”

            “That’s not the problem.” Of course I knew the police would take Sydney’s side if we ever went public with this. Hell, the whole world would, seeing how popular he was now. “But if it goes to court, or gets blown up in the media, it’ll be too much trouble for him. And then he’ll blame me for it.”

            “For a certified genius, Kris, you sure are sounding stupid right now,” Tyr said, sounding almost impressed. “He really has you wrapped around his little finger, doesn’t he?”

            “Why else do you think we’re wreaking havoc on unsuspecting strangers all over town now?” Ryder offered.

            Before anyone else could reply, Ashley came back into the station after ending his long distance call with his girlfriend. It had taken him a while to get through, and I was not surprised. Azalea Dare was a busy woman these days, what with her promotion into Interpol’s internal affairs department. But that did not necessarily mean she did not have the time to spare her boyfriend a few favors.

            “Lea promised she’d get it done tonight,” he announced happily. “And it’ll hit the stands first thing tomorrow. By this time tomorrow night, everyone will know about the witch-hunter cult of modern day London.”

            Tyr looked at me, eyebrows raised. “I thought you wanted to avoid making a fuss of it?”

            I shrugged. “It’s not exactly going into the Times here. Just a second-rate weekly tabloid that has its share of faithful readers, if only locally.”

            Sometimes Lea’s credibility as a freelance reporter—under a pseudonym, of course-- proved to be more useful than her position with the international police.

            “You know, watching us work, it got me thinking about something.” Ryder kicked back onto a seat in the station lobby. “Remember what Tyr said about Sydney knowing lotsa people? Sure, he’s made an impressive number of enemies, and all of them from different places, too. But to be able to handle each and every one of them specifically where it hurts most, and all for him… I think Kris, you’re the most connected one here.”

            “That goes without saying.” Right now, my friends were my weapons. And I was not going to stop cutting through the rot until I found what had been taken from me.

 

And then, after nearly two weeks of endless searches and agony, we reached the end of the list.

            “I don’t get it. If you know who the boss is, why didn’t you go for him first?”

            “That strategy works if we’re fighting a war, not when we’re trying to save a hostage,” I explained patiently. “His followers could just kill the hostage before they bolt. And it won’t work at all with these people. Cut the head, and a dozen more can pop up instantly.”

            “So you’re slicing it, piece by piece, from the tail.” Tyr’s tone was approving. “By the time the head comes around, it’ll be all that’s left.”

            “Actually, I was rather hoping to be able to squeeze something out of the minions before we confronted the boss,” I admitted. “But it seems he was the only one, after all. The others were never involved.”

            Still, I was glad to be rid of them. There was always the risk of them splitting and scramming if they had seen their boss’ head on the chopping block first thing. And even though I knew that cutting them loose would also mean they would not bother Sydney anymore, somehow that alone was not enough.

            These past two weeks had been torture. And like I said, the longer we were apart, the more people would have to pay.

            “Kris’ expression looks like hell frozen over,” Ryder was commenting to Tyr. “Remind me again never to piss him off, will ya?”

            “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine as long as you don’t lay a hand on Sydney.”

            Damn right. Now, if only someone had told that bastard that before he started this whole unholy mess.

            Ronald seemed to have been expecting us, for we found him casually sipping coffee on his front porch. The others tensed at the easiness of his manner, but I was not particularly fazed. After all, I could not have hoped to keep our gradual extermination of his forces hidden from him completely. At least one of those maniacs would have had the heart to warn him before bolting.

            It was the least I would have expected from my enemy.

            “I thought I loved him once, you know.” He put down his cup carefully, and though his eyes were elsewhere there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that his words were directed at me. My friends moved; I held them back with a hand, and took a seat opposite him, alone.

            “And what of him?” Sydney never said as much about his past as I would have liked. Not that I was complaining, of course. It just meant I never turned down the opportunity to find out more for myself, sometimes without his knowledge.

            “Tell me, what has he ever said about me?”

            “That you were a past lover, and he let you worship him until he got bored.” I smiled a little at the memory. It was on the first month anniversary of our relationship, and he had gotten so nervous when we had bumped into an ex for the first time. Although, when I think of it again, maybe his nerves were due to the present he had been hiding in his purse—

            “And he gave you that ring?”

            “You’re perceptive.” Or perhaps I had been too obvious, fiddling with the ring on my finger as I savored the memories. “On the day we met you on the street.”

            “And you’re the one who got him into a dress?” He laughed, and for a moment we looked for all the world like a couple of friends enjoying a chat over a cup of tea and biscuits. Sadly, the illusion was shattered with the next words that left his mouth. “When he was with me, he dominated the relationship completely. You could almost say… he trained me like a master would a slave.”

            Somehow, the S&M queen image fit him. I wonder if he was still up to it—after he came of age, of course.

            “You don’t seem to mind,” Ronald observed. “I would have thought that even the best of us would feel jealous to hear of a lover’s past exploits.”

            “Maybe I just know where your position is with him.” It was hard to be jealous of a man who Sydney had forgotten within hours of meeting him.

            “But quite a few members of our cause have had the same type of history,” he pressed. “And you met them all. Threatened and blackmailed them, if I’m not mistaken. Are you saying, through all that, you never once doubted him? Or even considered the reason we fought so hard?”

            “Why should I? Your cause was obviously a twisted one, and I simply had to make sure you could cause him no more pain.”

            “I see.” He refilled his cup and drained it in a gulp. “Your confidence in him is admirable.”

            “Aren’t you going to mention how utterly he has conquered me, just as he had you, and so many others?” I had prepared a lengthy argument for that, too, which could possibly end physical if he remained adamant. So I admit I was a little surprised when he did not put up a fight.

            “You haven’t left his side since then, have you? That’s why you haven’t noticed how drastically he has changed. But we, watching from a distance, can barely believe our eyes.”

            I chose to remain silent, reserving judgment. And he needed no prompting.

            “First, he willingly went to school. And stayed there. You wouldn’t believe how long it took for us to get used to the idea. And then there was the drama. And now, the modeling stint.”

            “It’s not a stint,” I felt obliged to add. “I am fairly sure he would make a brilliant career out of it.”

            “You see? He actually listens to your opinions. Between so many of us, we thought we knew him, Mr Hart. Past lovers, ex friends, caretakers. Anybody who had known him enough to see the darkness in him. We pieced together the bits we knew together, to make up for the parts each individual one of us lacked. And we thought we had built the most perfect picture anybody could of the boy named Sydney.

            “And you—you’ve known him for all of two months. Yet, you accept everything about him as though it was as natural as breathing, whatever bombshells we try to throw at you—none of it even fazes you. So finally, the only conclusion I could come up with is—that you’re the only one that knows the real Sydney.”

            He smiled, a little sadly, a little wearily. “The final blow for me was when I saw the ad. He had never looked so proud, and so beautiful—and I lay awake in bed all night thinking about it. It went against everything I thought I knew about him. The Sydney I knew lived in a small world, and was obsessed about controlling every element in it, every living being as though it was his pawn. And now, there he was, selling himself to the world.”

            In spite of myself, I was mesmerized by his storytelling. He looked and sounded years older, and at the same time younger, as though something had been lifted from his heart.

            “Look at me, Mr Hart. An old man with no company, no family, because years ago I fell in love with someone so beautiful, I could only conclude he was an angel fallen from the sky. And when he could not repay that love, I was convinced he was not capable of such an emotion, and was instead a devil risen from the earth. Now, thanks to you, I know both my assumptions were wrong.”

            He met my gaze, and held it tightly. “Sydney is only human, and only around you. I thank you for showing him the love I could not, and—please, take care of him. Protect him where I could not, so he can grow even more under your protection.”

            In the face of such selfless devotion—I could only close my eyes and turn away, replying him with words that sounded too feeble even in my ears.

            “…I’ll try.”

 

“Well, that was an anti-climax,” Ryder grumbled.

            “What were you expecting, a three-stage final boss battle?” Tyr challenged. “You’re twenty-three now, Ryde. Grow up.”

            “He was… nicer than I imagined.” Ashley’s tone was hesitant. “People change, huh?”

            “Look, I’m as glad as anybody that we didn’t have to get rough again,” Cal interjected. “But aren’t we missing the main point here? If that guy hadn’t taken Sydney, then who did?”

            “It’s been two weeks. If we haven’t found him yet…” Ashley did not want the say the inevitable.

            But the same thing was on everyone’s minds. And if they would not say it, then I will.

            “…Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”

            The possibility that had hovered around the blurred edges of my mind for two weeks now, the hypothesis that I had refused to entertain, was now in sharp focus. There was no more running from it.

            “Maybe he left of his own free will.”

            Maybe he left me.

            “Kris…”

            Ashley reached out for me, but Cal held him back, shaking his head slightly. I suppose I was grateful. I just could not find the words to voice it.

            “Come on, let’s go home.” Tyr’s words seemed to come from a distance, and I had to force my mind to register them. “We’re all exhausted… and everything always seems better after a good night’s rest.”

            That last part was obviously for my benefit—but how could I tell them that I did not want to return to my own home anymore? Even though there were five of us, it still felt terrifyingly empty without the person I had been rushing home to meet for too short a time.

            But it was still my home, and I was still the host. Ever the gracious host.

            “…Then we’d better get back soon, to turn up the heat for the night.”

            I would continue playing the host, with a smile and a warm cup of coffee for whoever who wanted it. It would not be for too long. Just until my friends finished their business here and returned to their lives. Even then, I would wave them on their way with a smile—

            And then I would find a buyer for the cottage.

            “Hey, Kris--”

            Ryder’s words were lost on me. Having made that decision, I was overwhelmed with a definitive sense of loss. This was, after all, the place I had spent Christmas Eve with him. Where I had given him that coat he seemed to treasure so much. All the meals we shared on the dining table, all the nights we spent in front of the fire—

            Despite all that, or because of it, our home became nothing more than a house without him.

            _“Kris--”_

The bedroom lights were off, and the window looked so lonely, reflecting the twilight rays. I found my gaze attracted to the billowing curtains, as though expecting a face to emerge from between them, smiling at me to welcome me back—

            But of course there was no one there.

            “ _Kris!”_

            “What?” I asked, rather irritably, turning around to glare at Ryder as I reached for the gates—and felt something else, soft and warm. Fur?

            The world seemed to slow down.

            I wanted to turn back around, but I was afraid to look. In case it was just an illusion, my mind playing cruel tricks on me. So in that moment, my world was confined to the warmth I felt on my fingers… and then the cold of the hands that wrapped around mine.

            And finally, that one voice that had haunted my dreams, the only sound that could wake me from this waking nightmare—

            Slowly, painstakingly, I turned around, eyes wide, to meet the gold-flecked green gaze I had missed so badly it had hurt.

            “About time you came back,” Sydney stole the words out of my mouth with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I forgot my keys.”

            What he said should not have made any sense to me. It did not. And at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. It was the only thing that mattered.

            I closed the distance between us in an instant, gathering him up in my arms. My body pressed against his, and I could feel his heart beating against mine, but it still was not enough. Not this time. Not after so long being so far apart. Not after I had spent weeks convincing myself that we may never see each other, or touch each other again.

            “…You’re here.” I found my voice against the absolute silence, had to say something to make sure the world was still real.

            “Yes.”

            “You’re real.”

            “…Yeah.”

            “I’m not dreaming?”

            He finally lost his patience, wriggling one arm out of my embrace to knock me over the head. “I leave you for all of two weeks, and you turn into an idiot? Geez, you really are--”

            I could not let him finish the rest of his sentence, silencing him with my lips. And still it was not enough. Closer—I just had to get closer to him. To make sure he was there, right there in my arms. To make sure that he could never get away again.

            No, I will not let him escape again.

            _“Kris! Let me breathe!”_ He tried to break away, and what little distance he managed to put between us felt like a mile.

            “Do you have any idea how much it hurt…?”

            More than I could have thought possible. Almost more than I could handle. Definitely more than I can take twice.

            “I’m never letting you go again.”

            And I resolutely lifted him off the ground, bridal-style. Let’s see him try to run from this.

            “ _Idiot! Put me down!”_ His voice raised about four octaves, and his complexion was the same fiery red as his hair. “ _P-people are watching!_ ”

            He was right, of course. Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard Ashley may be giggling. The one sighing exasperatedly was probably Cal. The one gagging exaggeratedly into the bushes was definitely Ryder. Tyr might have been looking pleased with himself, as he did whenever he thinks he got one over me.

            But you know what?

            “I don’t care. Let them look however long they want.” The time for words over, I kissed Sydney fiercely, as though to shut out all unnecessary distractions. Right now all that mattered was that he was back. Everything else went out the window, things I probably should have given more thought to. Why he had left in the first place, for example.

            And come to think of it, since when was he embarrassed of people looking? My friends would have gotten used to us by now…

            Beside us, someone cleared a throat. Sydney tensed. And I made the mistake of looking up.

            My oldest sister, Kylie, was smiling at us devilishly. “Want a room? I know where to get one, it’s not far. But I understand if you can’t wait.”

            The fire that had burning over inside me extinguished with a sorry sizzle. My arms loosened, but Sydney buried his face into my chest instead. It looked, if possible, even redder than before.

            As for me, I rather think I had lost all the blood in mine.

            “What’s the matter? Go on, just pretend I’m not here…!”

 

“So you packed your things and disappeared for two weeks… because my sister asked you too?”

            An hour later, I was still angry at him. Having heard his story—No, even when he was telling his story, I could see him feeling more and more foolish himself. Now, if only that awkward, guilty look he had on could be just a little less adorable…

            I was mad at him, but I could not bring myself to sit him behind the table and lecture him from there. So I had carried him from the front gate all the way upstairs, tossed him into my bed, locked the door and demanded the explanation then.

            “Well, she put up a strong case…” His voice was small, made even smaller by the covers he had pulled up to his face after I had stripped him down in my impatience. “She said it was for your own good…”

            I knew it, I was right. The only way anyone could have gotten to him was through me. I should have anticipated that the first one to try was my sister, though.

            “She wanted you to meet my parents, didn’t she?”

            He nodded imperceptibly. “Kylie told me they still weren’t talking to you, but if I introduced myself to them, they might just soften up a little… and that you’d like that.”

            “And you believed her?” I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “No, the main thing is—why didn’t you tell me?!”

            “Because you would have stopped me,” he retorted immediately. With that stubborn pout of his, he looked so much like the memories I had desperately clung on to for the past two weeks that I almost forgot to be angry. Thankfully, he reminded me. “See? Look at you, you’re completely pissed out of your mind! Think about it, would you have honestly let me go if I asked?”

            “You didn’t have to go in the first place! My family matters are none of your business!”

            He shirked back as though slapped, but the hurt in his eyes lasted only briefly. Soon enough, he was as livid as I was.

            “What do you mean? You told your sister about me, didn’t you?” He threw the covers off and crawled across the bed to confront me. “How else would she know?”

            “I sent some of your pictures to her accidentally.” Rather idiotic of me, on hindsight. “She must have pieced the puzzle together. Kylie’s always been quite sharp.”

            “That little…” That was news to him, but as usual he recovered from it quickly. “Okay, so maybe we rushed into things. But you said you were going public, right? They were going to find out about us soon enough, right? Wouldn’t it be better for them to hear it straight from the source, and not through some tabloid?”

            “I think the only time they actually notice me is when we’re in the main papers.” But now I was more curious than angry. “Why do you care about my relationship with my family?”

            “ _It’s your family!”_

            “Yeah, but they disowned me, so there’s really nothing between us anymore.” I sidled up to him, my skin brushing against his, and he jumped, as though surprised to notice how close we were now. “I would have thought you would know that....”

            And something occurred to me. “It’s because you don’t have a family, isn’t it?”

            His parents had offered him on a silver plate to be sacrificed as a child. To them, he was literally better off dead. With a background like that, it was not surprising that he would want to—

            “Don’t be stupid. You’re my family.”

            I had to pause for a few seconds to make sure I heard that right. And by the time I had it committed to memory, he was blushing up to the tips of his ears and hiding in the covers again.

            “D-don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like I’m sucking up to my future in-laws or anything… I mean, I know they don’t matter as much to you as your friends. But, well…” He pulled the covers over his head. “I—I like the feeling of having a family again. And I thought you would, too.”

            “…Silly.” After another few seconds digesting that, I just had to laugh. No matter how long we spent together, no matter what we went through—it was the way he said things like these that made everything more than worth it. “Haven’t you thought it would be the same for me, too? You’re the only family I need, Syd. I mean it.”

            “No, you don’t.” He poked his head out to protest furiously. “Look at you, you’re a mess! You fall apart whenever you’re alone—except this time, you had the others with you, too! I can’t always be there for you, you know. If anything ever happens to me, you definitely need someone else to--”

            “No one can replace you,” I interrupted, the picture of seriousness. “And if anything ever happens to you, I’ll just--”

            He hastily clapped his hands over my mouth. “You know what? I just decided, I don’t need to hear it.”

            Oh, Sydney…I smiled, and carefully took his hand away from my face, draping it over my shoulder instead. “Okay, then, I won’t say it. But remember… you’re the only one I need in this world. So don’t ever leave me like that again, got it? Or I might just do something both of us would regret…”

            “Liar.” He stuck out his tongue at me. “You’re fine now, aren’t you? When I’m not around, you can have your friends take care of you. I mean…” His voice shrunk again, until it was nearly inaudible. “They’re family, too.”

          I grinned, grabbing both his arms and throwing them around my neck. “Hear that, guys? He says you’re family!”

            And just as I had expected, there was a whoop and cheers from the lot who had had their ears pressed to the door the entire time.

            “They—You—Since when--?” It was one of those rare moments Sydney was truly lost for words, and he was so cute I laughed, kissing him on the nose.

            “Since the very beginning. But don’t worry, they’re satisfied now. They were just worried about us, that’s all.”

            “Ugh…Wait, don’t tell me your sister’s out there too?!”

            “Don’t worry, I’m sure Tyr and the others didn’t let her step into the house,” I said smugly. “They’d gotten pretty good at keeping my sisters away over the years.”

            “They’ve had to deal with a lot, huh?” He laughed a little, too. “I’ve heard a few things on the way back. You guys have been busy, haven’t you?”

            “Well, I figured you’d be more likely to come back if we got rid of your stalkers for you.” I buried my face in his hair and inhaled his scent. It really had been too long.

            He sounded disapproving, but his words were also laced with a mischievous glee. “You work them too hard. One of these days, they’re just going to get fed up and dump you.”

            “Trust me, it’ll take a lot more for us to really disband. But they must have known your stalkers hadn’t actually done anything to you too, so I guess they were just trying to distract me from missing you.”

            “Sounds like a kindergarten teacher’s job. They all look completely drained.”

            “That’s why we’re really alone now.” It had been nice talking to him again. Just hearing his voice, feeling his warmth, was like a soothing balm applied directly on my soul. Already the pain was fading, and already I knew there would be no scars. But while my mind was satisfied, my body was not. Like someone who had just crawled through a desert, there was an unbearable thirst I had to quench.

            “Do you think… just for tonight… we could try getting just a little closer?”


	14. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm after(?) the storm... And the end of Part 2 ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't come after me with pitchforks if this is getting cheesy...

That night, Kris got as close to breaking his oath as he possibly could. And yet, miraculously, he managed to keep himself from going all the way.

                Ah, well, my eighteenth birthday was in one year and three months’ time. And contrary to popular belief, I _can_ wait. So for now, I just had to satisfy myself with what I got.

                “…Not going to say anything?”

                “Nah.” I rested my head on his chest. “Sometimes silence is golden, don’t you think?”

                He laughed, and I liked the way his body rumbled against mine. “Now I’m positive you’ve spent the past few weeks with my family.”

                “Are your sisters always like that?” I had told myself I wouldn’t complain, mainly because I knew he would use it as an excuse to tease me, but I couldn’t help it. You wouldn’t believe what I had had to go through.

                “Oh, yes. For as long as any of us can remember.” Kris’ eyes shone with equal parts of exasperation and adoration. At me, or at his family? Don’t look at me, I’m not gonna ask. “Who was there? Konnie? Kassie?”

                “ _All_ of them.” I groaned, and buried my face into his ribs. He chuckled, but didn’t even flinch.

                “Oh, no, you don’t. Not everyone is as sensitive there as you are.”

                I scowled, and dug my fingers into his sides. He just _smirked._

                “That’s not fair! _Everyone_ has a weakness there!”

                “And everyone knows that,” he added. “That’s why I’ve had a high resistance to it since I was five. Although I believe Kelly still falls for it every time.”

                “I don’t know how many times I attacked her there over those two weeks. There was just no other way to keep her off my case!”

                “But shouldn’t she be studying agriculture in Dubai?” Kris looked intrigued now. “You say all of them were there? Even Kara?”

                “Yeah, so?”

                “I haven’t seen or even heard from Kara since she made exploring rainforests her life’s purpose. Last I know, she was last seen somewhere in Borneo.” He brushed his lips over the top of my head. “They must have been crazy curious to take time off from whatever they were doing to meet you.”

                “Huh. They didn’t mention any of that.” Kris’ sisters were a colorful bunch, that was for sure. You could tell just by looking at them. And yet, the entire time I was with them, all they had talked about was me, or Kris. Or both of us. “Well, then, I guess that just proves how interesting a guy I am, don’t it?”

                “Sydney, it’s been months, and I still haven’t tired of trying to figure you out. What more proof do you need?”

                Hey, what did that mean? Pouting, I wound my arms around him. “All right, then, Mr Superstar, how long do you usually take to get bored of people?”

                “Ah. I’ve missed that nickname.” He pretended to think it over, as though he hadn’t noticed that my fingers were poised and ready over his shoulder blades. I was a pro at this, after all, and we’d been dating for nearly three months now. Of course I’d figured out where his real weakness was ages ago.

                “Okay, okay, watch it!” He laughed again, taking me completely by surprise when he jumped up and pinned my arms back down onto the bed. My eyes widened, my heartbeat accelerated, all without permission, as I found myself looking into his eyes once more. Where there was mischief and humor before, now I saw deep pools of ice blue filled with something… else.

                My eyes must have reflected the desire in his, because he began lowering himself slowly, as though having found my unspoken approval. In those long seconds, his lips were close enough for me to feel his breath brushing my neck.

                “Silly. As if I’ll ever get bored around you.”

                As I said, sometimes words ruined everything. Because in the short time he took to give me that simple answer, the door was flung open and his friends came pouring in.

                “Okay, that’s enough! Do you have any idea what time it is?” Ryder was the first to enter, impressively unfazed by the sight of one of his best friends half naked, on top of a teenage boy. Heck, he didn’t even hesitate to pull Kris off of me and shove him into the shower. “Get in there and cool down, for god’s sake! I don’t care how long it’s been since you even touched him, I’m not letting you miss lunch for it!”

                The curtains had been drawn in the room, and I had to shield my eyes when Ashley pulled them open. “Damn, what time _is_ it?”

                “Two in the afternoon,” Tyr was kind enough to reply. “Sorry for interrupting you guys, but we just figured you might wanna get up before the sun sets again.”

                “Why?” Kris had gotten into the shower obediently enough, but he hadn’t bothered to close the door, and there was a certain edge of annoyance in his voice that I identified with just fine. “If Ali calls, just tell her I drove my car into a tree or something.”

                “She’ll see right through us,” Tyr confirmed reluctantly. “But that’s not the issue here. As far as she’s concerned, we’re still on a desperate manhunt for your missing boyfriend.”

                That reminded me, I probably should have told my manager before taking off…

                Cal must have noticed my guilty fidgeting, because he put me out of my misery. “Just so you know, Ali wasn’t worried about you at all. She even laughed when we showed her your letter and scolded Kris for being too clingy. Actually, I suspect she hasn’t stopped laughing since then...”

                “I would never have expected that from her, to be honest.” Kris emerged from the bath, dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist and another over his shoulders. And of course, the first thing he did was pull me into his embrace, cuddling me like a huge teddy bear as he continued to rant. “I thought that as his manager, she of all people would be concerned for his well-being. Don’t you agree, Syd?”

                “H-huh?” I have to admit, I was more than a little distracted just then. Had Kris changed his shampoo and soap recently? It was a new smell, but not a bad one…

                “Your turn!” Ryder pulled me away from Kris again, this time stuffing me into the bathtub. Since I was taken off guard, I inhaled a mouthful of foam before I could resurface.

                “Hey, watch it! I could’ve drowned there!”

                “If you wanna complain, take it up with your lover boy over there.” Ryder jerked a finger at Kris’ general direction. “He was the one who insisted I get the bath ready for you.”

                Dammit, Kris! Just because I told him that one time that I envied people who got to take bubble baths every day… doesn’t mean I want one too!

                “What are you staring at?” I growled at Ryder. “Haven’t you heard of privacy?”

                “Who cares about a bit of skin amongst family?” He even had the nerve to wink at me! This guy, who had been terrified of even touching me just a few weeks ago!

                I was going to seriously regret what I said yesterday, wasn't I…?

                “Hands off, Ryder.” Before I could protest my innocence any more, Kris used his body to block me completely from Ryder’s view. “Like I said, there are some things I’m not sharing.”

                “Geez, aren’t you a possessive one…”

                I was still in the midst of deciding whether or not to take offense at their exchange when Ashley poked his head into the bathroom too. Did any of these guys know shame at all?!

                “All right, you guys have had your fun. Now are you going to walk out nicely, as we had agreed, or do I have to drag you out?”

                Kris had always said that Ashley was one of those people who could be commanding when they wanted to, but I hadn’t really believed him until today. Before I could even pick my jaw off the floor, he had the others herded up and sent out of the room like a shepherd and his sheep.

                “Impressive, isn’t it?” Kris said off-handedly, scrubbing my back. “And I think he’s gotten even better in the past year. Notice that Ryder didn’t even protest.”

                “He said they agreed on it. And what where you’re putting that!” I rubbed the soap out of my eyes. “I wonder what he meant…”

                “Isn’t it obvious?” Kris sounded amused again, and when I turned around to look at me, he had his fingers arched into an elegant ‘o’. And then he blew a soap bubble into my face.

                “Hey--!” I barely had time to close my eyes before the bubble popped on my nose, scattering bits of soapy water all over. If I hadn’t—“Those can hurt, you know!”

                “What, are you scared of a few little bubbles?” He laughed, but I effectively cut him off by splashing a handful of foam at him, which he tried and failed to dodge. Ah, well, it seemed that he would need another bath after all—

                While he was still disoriented, I pulled him into the tub with me.

 

Kris never actually told me, but I could hazard a decent guess at the secret deal Ashley had made with the others. Because by the time the two of us were fairly clean and dry, the rest of the house was conspicuously empty.

                “I thought so.” Kris draped a towel over his shoulders as he came down the stairs, his chest bare and still slightly wet. I sneaked a peek, and then told myself resolutely that was all I was going to get, because otherwise we’d get nothing done the whole day.

                Still looking stubbornly away, I said, “Must be their way of saying ‘happy birthday’.”

                Because of course it was the fourteenth, Kris’ birthday. I had rushed home especially for it—not to mention I had to pull out the ‘first birthday with my boyfriend’ card to get away from his crazy sisters. That was one hell hole I wasn't going to be digging again in the near future, that’s for sure.

                “You know, I was half expecting them to barge in at the stroke of midnight, carrying a cake or something.” He chucked, ruffling my hair. “Am I glad they didn’t.”

                “Me, too.” I remembered quite well what we were doing at midnight, because I had taken rather special pains to keep track of the time. Just so I could be the first person to wish him a happy birthday, the moment he turned officially twenty-three. “So now you’re one year older, old man.”

                “Your turn’s next.” He nuzzled the back of my neck, chuckling. “And it doesn’t matter to me how old I get, as long I’m getting old with you.”

                “…Idiot.” Seriously, though, I had to come up with a better response next time. I was getting predictable, even to me. So I changed the subject before he could point that out. “So, Mr Superstar, how do you wanna spend your birthday?”

                “With you.”

                “…Okay, it’s already three in the afternoon, so if you want this to be memorable, you had better start making sense. Where do you wanna go?”

                “Anywhere, as long as I’m with you.”

                I turned around to stare at him in the eyes. He looked sober enough, but then again I was no expert in things like these. “Did you knock your head on something? Because you’re sounding awfully stupid so early in the morning.”

                “Afternoon,” he corrected. “And don’t worry, I’m perfectly sane.”

                “Then answer the damn questions!”

                “I did.” Before I could yell again, he silenced me with a kiss on my lips. And then he moved on to my cheeks. My ears. My neck. And lower. I’ll admit, by the time he stopped to continue his explanation, I kinda wished he didn’t. “This day is already memorable, Syd. It’s the day I got you back, after I thought I had lost you forever. And nothing can beat that feeling.”

                “…That was yesterday.”

                “Maybe. But things like this take more than one day to savor.”

                Finally, I realized that this was one argument I wasn’t going to win—not with words, anyway. But there are other, smarter ways to deal with Kris.

                And I was done being the submissive today.

                I took a step back, and when he leaned in I quickly kicked his legs out from underneath him. We fell to the floor together, me making sure that he was pinned firmly beneath me, and that he could not break free.

                And then, to repay his affection, I started exploring his body with my tongue.

                 “Fine. You want me?” I whispered when I reached his ears. “You have me, all of me, all to yourself, for the whole of today. Now, are we going to lounge around the house all day, or do you wanna go somewhere… else? And this time I’ll say it first: I don’t mind anything, as long as I’m with you. You decide.” And I nipped his earlobe. “Seriously. Decide.”

                “You stole my line,” he murmured, but somehow he didn’t sound that angry to me. “So it’s okay if I say I just want to stay at home? It’s been way too long… since the two of us were alone together.”

                Yes, it has. Not even counting the time we kept missing each other, and the house was uncomfortably crowded. Just the past fourteen days were enough to make my body yearn for his touch. And something deep in my chest twisted a little, with the lingering pain of the separation, and the vicious pleasure of the reunion. Two weeks. It was only two weeks. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought I would miss him that much.

                And never in my worst nightmares had I anticipated that I would feel so happy to see him again, to the point where I could barely control myself anymore.

                We went on in that fashion for the rest of the day, only pulling apart occasionally for a meal, or a quick shower. I’ll say it again, I am no blushing virgin, not by a long shot—but there was something different in the way our bodies came together. Hell, we didn’t go all the way—every time I come close, he retains just enough sanity to pull away—and yet…

                It was all familiar to me, and yet there was something new, something exhilarating there that wasn't there before, with all the other men I had slept with.

                And so I made the mistake of asking him.

               He looked at me like a mother looking at a particularly dense child asking a particularly cute, but still dense question. “Isn’t it obvious?”

                “That’s twice you’ve said that in a day,” I grumbled, turning away from. “And no, it’s not obvious. At least not to us normal people.”

                “What was that? Did you just call yourself normal?” He hugged me tightly from behind, the warmth from his skin in direct contact with mine. “Sydney, sweetheart, you are _anything_ but normal.”

                “Yeah, yeah, you’ll never get bored of me, yada yada yada. Just answer the question.”

                “And that’s the second time you’ve said that.” This time he kissed the tip of my spine tenderly before continuing. “It’s simple, really. What didn’t you have with others, but you do have with me?”

                Oh.

                “L--”

                “Okay, okay, I get it, you don’t have to say it!” I hurriedly clamped my hands over his mouth, not removing them until I felt the wetness of his tongue on my palms.

                “I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of that word,” he commented once he was free to speak again, smiling at the enthusiasm with which I dried my hands on his trousers. “It’s not exactly a swear word, or a taboo.”

                “It is to me, okay?” I pouted at him, feeling the blood rush to my face from… other areas. “I—I just don’t like saying it, that’s all. Or hearing it.”

                “So you don’t want me to say it to you?”

                “Ugh…” I thought that over. Every time he used that word on me, I would get all flustered… and yet, the thought of him never using that word on me again scared me shitless. “Okay, you can say it. Just… not too often. And not in public. And not when we don’t need it.”

                He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of limitations.”

                “W-well, that’s because…”

                “How about now?”

                “…Huh?”

                “Can I say it now?”

                “Can you--” I repeated half of his words before registering the meaning behind them. It was just a word, just a small, harmless, four-letter word… and yet, I felt as though I needed to prepare myself before hearing it. “H-hold on a sec! There’s something I want to give you first!”

                And to buy myself some time, I broke free from his grip, making for my futon on the living room floor.

                I found what I was looking for exactly where I had expected it to be, though it showed some signs of having been passed around since I touched it last. At least Ashley had the courtesy of _trying_ to hide his tracks. And since the box didn’t look as shabby as I’d feared it would look after they inevitably found it, I decided to turn a blind eye to their snooping around.

                When I returned to the room, Kris was propped up on some pillows, waiting patiently for me. There was no point in hiding the intricately-wrapped box in my hands, so I tossed it at him with feigned callousness, all the while thinking _don’t drop it, don’t drop it—_

And thank heavens, he didn’t drop it.

                “Is this…?”

                “”Yeah, it is.” There wasn't even any point in trying to hide its contents, not if Kylie was telling me the truth that time. The only one of its kind in the world, she had assured me. Irreplaceable.

                Kris pulled on one end of the delicate satin ribbon, and the whole box just fell open like a flower in blossom. I never got tired of it, no matter how many times I saw it, and when Kris’ eyes lit up like a child at a Christmas store, I knew that was something else we had in common now.

                “Your mom said you’ve always loved these.”

                It was probably one of the only things I could have said that would have been enough to make him tear his eyes away from the package in his hands. “She did?”

                “Yep. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

                When he looked back at his present, his gaze held another emotion now. Melancholy? Happiness? Regret? I couldn’t tell, and it was nerve-wracking.

                Finally, he lifted up the contents of the box, a little pink pouch of beautiful chocolate cookies.

                “…There was a long line to get these, wasn't there?”

                “Not really…” I lied. I had lined up for three fricking hours before I even got into the store. But that was what his mother told him every year when she gave him these biscuits without fail, so that he wouldn’t feel guilty for having her stand in line for so long. I was just continuing the tradition.

                His smile when he picked up the first cookie was a gentle one, and I waited impatiently for him to eat it—But instead, he beckoned me over, and popped it into my mouth.

                Taken by surprise, I nearly choked on it… but once I had recovered and really tasted it, I knew why Mrs Hart had gone through so much trouble every year to get it.

                “It’s amazing--!”

                “If you like it so much,” he laughed, “you can have the rest. To be honest… I never liked these. I thought they were too sweet, too rich.” And his expression sobered. “But when I saw how long Mother waited to get them—I never dared to say it aloud. Instead, I told her how delicious it was year after year, and year after year I watched from behind the wall as she stood in line, come rain or come shine.”

                “…Oh.” The chocolate that had tasted so sweet at first was beginning to take on a slightly bitter aftertaste.

                “But I understand. If she told you about those cookies… then she must have accepted you. And Father, too.” I had expected to see sadness in his eyes, but it wasn't there. In its place was the same childish wonder he had showed me the first time we met, and nearly every day since. “You won them over. Even my parents… You got their approval.”

                “Well… yeah. Kinda.” I scratched my head rather helplessly. “It wasn't that hard…”

                “Are you kidding? My friends have been trying for years, and they never made it. You spent all of two weeks with them…”

                “Just the last three days,” I amended. “They wouldn’t see me before that.”

                “…You waited on the doorstep for eleven days?”

                “No, not exactly… remember the green garden shed? And your sisters—”

                That was about all I managed to say before he enveloped me in another tight yet gentle hug, crashing his lips onto mine and effectively taking all my breath away.

                “Sydney, oh, Sydney…” he murmured once I had to resurface for air. “Can I say it now? Please.”

                My shoulders slumped. If he had to… “…Fine.”

                “I love you.”

                “Yeah, I know.”

                “Sydney, I love you.”

                “…I heard you the first time.”

                “Sydney, I--”

                “Okay, enough already!” I took a leaf out of his book and shut him up with a kiss. And then I pressed my finger onto his lips to keep him quiet even after I pulled away, blushing furiously. “I… love you too.”

                “Say it again.”

                “I love you, Kris.”

                “One more time?”

                “You told me twice, so I’m only telling you twice!”

                And then the time for words was over, and we found each other once more, kissing more passionately than ever before, than I had ever thought possible, as though if we got just a wee bit closer, we could meld into one—

                And that was how we spent our first fourteenth of February.

 

“Has anyone ever laughed at you for being born on Valentine’s Day?”

                “Plenty. But it was also rather convenient, since I can pretend any Valentine’s chocolate I got was a birthday present, and vice versa.”

                “…Vice versa?”

                “Yes, I will admit I have been through some rough spots. But I don’t see why every Valentine’s Day can’t be as good as this one, as long as you’re here by my side.

                “…Idiot.”

                “By the way, you should think of better--”

                “Shut up!”


	15. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things change. Others don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If these chapters are too long, gimme a holler! I was thinking about cutting them into separate parts...

“…Okay, okay, one last question…!”

            I sighed inwardly, rubbing my temple as discreetly as I could. The migraine had been coming on for a while now, what with the microphones thrust into our faces and the camera flashes everywhere—No matter how many times we did press conferences like these, I would never get used to them, much less like them.

            Good thing, then, that no one ever expected me to answer much.

            Our newest album had finally hit the stands, and the media pretty much summed it up when they said it was as though we had never been gone. The old TRACK magic was still there, and the TRACK fever would probably never die out completely, but now the fire seemed to simmer more than burn. Our original fanbase had matured, and so have we.

            At first, no one could have predicted how the reception would be like. That was why we came in with our expectations as low as was possible. This was for fun, Tyr stressed over and over again, just for old times’ sake. None of us had much riding on it, and none of us would be any worse off if it turned out to be a huge flop, save perhaps a few bruised egos. So no hard feelings, and just enjoy yourself.

            We had forgotten that half the fun was in the reaction.

            The initial reception was no longer the crazy spamming of social networking sites. No, the fans were quieter, but no less furtive in their opinion of us now. It was rather like returning home to find that your siblings have grown up, but upon exchanging a few smiles, you know that nothing has changed.

            There were, of course, exceptions. Paparazzi that simply did not understand how we had graduated from pop icons to laidback artists, and was still keen to dig up the sort of dirt that only teenagers appreciated. Well, I was not going to fault them. We had many new, younger fans too, and I was not going to deny them their fun.

            Especially not the one waiting for me at home.

            “—Kris?”

            …Again. I mentally reprimanded myself for daydreaming in the middle of work, feeling rather like a teenager myself. “Pardon, could you repeat that question?”

            The reporter that had stood up some time before, trying in vain to grab my attention, looked a little miffed. But he would have known better by now than to fault celebrities for their attitude. And if the sly gleam in his eyes were anything to judge by, he had something else very much in mind.

            “A few days ago, I came across this picture from a friend. And we are fairly sure the man in it is you, Kris. Would you care to verify?”

            Alison opened her mouth to protest, and as this question was in no way related to the topic of today’s press conference, she had every right to. Nevertheless, my curiosity piqued, I held up a hand to stop her.

            “Sure. If it really is me, I see no harm in that.” It was not as though I would be caught taking drugs or anything—

            When he held up the picture, I recognized it instantly. In fact, I even remembered, with stunning clarity, when and where the picture was taken. In the back of my head, a small part of me knew that I should have felt offended, even somewhat violated, by the photographer’s actions. But the bigger part of me was applauding his expertise.

            I recalled this scene vividly, partly because it was still fresh in my memory, mostly because it had been one of those rare few dates Sydney and I went out. It had been raining cats and dogs, so after offering him my raincoat, I still insisted on sharing my umbrella with him. Back then he had refused, even going so far as to push me away, but using my free arm I had trapped him closer to me until he reluctantly agreed.

            It was precisely this moment that the mystery photographer had caught on film.

            Being caught in such a compromising pose, and broad daylight, should have at least put me on the defensive. I was fairly sure I heard a collectively sharp intake of breath from my friends, and our manager. But I was wholly focused on something else altogether.

            Back then, the victory of the moment was hampered somewhat by the fact that Sydney had refused to look at me the entire way home. For a moment there, I may even have wondered whether I had gone too far in babying him. And although he acted normally enough once we got back, a little part of me still felt bad about it.

            But in the picture, the expression that Sydney had tried so hard to hide from me was caught in brilliant detail—and he was smiling. A bit exasperated, maybe, and a bit shy, but it was also as happy a smile as I had ever seen on him.

            “—Kris? What do you say? If you’re not saying anything, I’ll take it to mean that you admit the man holding the umbrella is you.” The reporter’s smug voice barely reached my ears. Since I was facing away from the camera in the picture, he had evidently thought that convincing the world of my presence in it was the biggest hurdle, one that I had just let him cross without an inch of resistance.

            But he was not done with me yet, not by a long shot.

            “Now that we have proved that beyond a shred of doubt—ladies and gentlemen, don’t you think this other person in the picture also looks familiar?” Beneath the loud bravado, I sensed a quiver in his voice that he could not hide. He was not a hundred percent sure, and if he was wrong he would be in for the embarrassment of his life, something his reputation would never survive—but if he won this gamble, he would have unearthed the stuff of legend. “Doesn’t this look like—the newbie model, Asura?”

            I had heard it enough times not to do a double-take at Sydney’s unlikely stage name. As a matter of fact, I was rather fond of it, and even fonder of Sydney’s dislike of it. Which was of course why I made a point of using it whenever appropriate.

            But I could understand the reporter’s apprehension. The picture was focused on Sydney’s face, his every feature, and yet he looked very different in it compared to his official shots. Though none the less beautiful, naturally.

            How I reacted now, how I answered this question, would determine everything. Get it wrong, and I might destroy both our careers, not to mention my friends’. Get it right—and then what?

            Neither Tyr, as leader, nor Ali, as manager, made any move to get me out of this situation. That was how much they trusted my judgment.

            And so I was free to say the first thing on my mind—

            “—Do you think I could get a copy of that?”

 

“I was watching.”

            Sydney greeted me with those words as soon as I entered the house, though he had not bothered to leave the living room. I took that as an invitation to join him on the couch, feeling all the tension leave my body as soon as I felt his cool skin against mine.

          “You’re cold again,” I murmured, nuzzling up against the side of his neck. “Come here, so I can warm you up--”

            He batted my hands away with the remote control, still resolutely not looking at me. “Don’t change the subject. You know, for someone who’s supposed to be so smart, you sure didn’t act that way on TV just now. Can you even imagine the fuss everyone is making?”

            “I thought you didn’t care what other people say,” I reminded him, ducking his hands and wrapping my arms determinedly around his waist.

            “Of course I don’t. But don’t you think you could have done that better? I bet the others were disappointed with you.”

            “The others? You mean, Tyr and Ali?” Because honestly, the other three were completely chilled about it. They barely even knew what was going on. “They’re fine with it. After all, I had told them long ago I planned on going public about us. I just wasn't sure if you would mind—that’s why I didn’t confirm or deny whether it was you in that picture.”

            “Yeah, about that--!” He finally turned around, the perfect image of incredulous hurt. “Was it really that hard to tell? It looked pretty obvious to me…”

            I could not help but laugh at that. “It’s obvious to us, but not everyone is used to seeing their high and mighty Asura actually smile like a human for once. It might be easier for them to believe that’s your twin sister.”

            “That’s why I keep telling you, no more bringing me out in drag!” As soon as he was done complaining, he began to eye me suspiciously instead. “I checked Twitter. You’ve lost a lot of fans already, you know, by even hinting that you’re seeing someone else. If it gets out that you’re gay—you sure you won’t regret it?”

            “Regret? What on earth are you talking about?” Because I had not said what I had said out of impulse, or emotion. Of course I had paused to think of the consequences before dropping the bombshell, and admitting to a relationship, never mind who my partner was. And after much thought, my conclusion was—who cares?

            Sydney was staring at me. “Remember what Ali said about me being a bad influence on you? I’m starting to think she might be right. Because you’re getting a very dangerous look now.”

          “Oh?” I kissed his eyelids, so he would stop looking, but I was still too curious to not ask. “What kind of look?”

            “A who-gives-a-damn look. If you’re going to do anything else stupid, give me a heads-up.”

            “I will.” I paused. “If so, I might as well tell you now. There’s a dinner gala this weekend, heard of it?”

            “Mm-hmm. I got an invitation too.”

            “I want you to be my partner there.”

            His eyes flew open, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw that there was no surprise there. No hesitation, either. Instead, there was triumph, as though he had expected as much, and—tenderness.

            “I thought you would never ask.”

 

At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, the easiness with which he agreed was also a bit unsettling.

            “I know I’ve asked you this plenty of times already--”

            “If you know that, then don’t ask again. Yes, I’m sure. And no, I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to. You’re not the only one allowed to make rash decisions, Kris.” His words were firm, filled with such confidence that, from where I sat on the bed watching him, he looked that much taller, his bare back that much broader. “Damn, what do I wear…?”

            I chuckled lightly, getting out of bed to hug him from behind. “Surely you’re not planning on wearing something you wore before?”

            “Yeah, so what? And stop doing that, I can’t move!”

            “An occasion as memorable as this definitely merits an outfit as, if not more, memorable.” It was just as well that I had his arms pinned against his sides, making it that much easier for me to gently pluck the clothes he had been contemplating out of his grasp. “And I know the very person to do it. We both have the day off, so why not?”

            What with recording being completed ahead of schedule, before even the end of the leave I had taken from college, I was suddenly faced with more free time than I ever had since Tyr and the others came over. Sure, there were still little events here and there that had to be dealt with—autograph signings, interview sessions. But those were easily accommodated into our schedules, and the best part was, I was working normal hours again. Meaning I would never have to miss Sydney for an entire day ever again.

            After the longest two weeks of my life, I felt as though taking my eyes away from him for even a minute was torture. Ryder called me possessive, and Ashley defended me by insisting I was just being protective, but both of them agreed easily when Tyr decided what they deserved for all their hard work was a nice long trip around the British countryside. Needless to say, the only reward I needed was time alone with Sydney, and my friends were more than happy to oblige.

            “Where are we going? And why does my asking that feel like déjà vu already?”

            “We’re going to meet an acquaintance of mine, and the perfect man for the job,” I replied patiently, leading him into a high-rise office building. Thankfully, we had missed lunch hour, and therefore managed to snag an empty elevator without much trouble. “For your first trip into the battlefield, I trust you’ll want the best armor you can get.”

            “You’re making it sound awfully dangerous for a dinner event,” he said incredulously.

            “It is, dear Asura. And you can never be too careful.”

            Sydney stiffened far too visibly for my liking at the voice that greeted us once the elevator doors slid noiselessly open. Although I had a good idea why.

            “Ah, yes. You worked with Syd on a project before, didn’t you, Cianán?”

            “Indeed. And the pleasure was all mine.” The designer’s eyes danced with a dark humor as they moved between us. “I had no idea he was your lover at that time, however. And I’m afraid I have been terribly rude…”

            “No, you haven’t, not if you stop talking right now!” Sydney more or less yelped, jumping in front of me to silence Cianán with his hands.

            Hmm… suspicious.

            “Is this something I should know?” Keeping the smile on my face polite, I yanked Sydney back to my side by his shoulder. Perhaps I was unnecessarily rough with him… but was it that wrong for me to want to get him as far away from another man as I could?

            Ah. So this was what Ryder meant by ‘possessiveness’.

            “Whether or not to say it, the decision is not in my hands,” Cianán had the nerve to look slightly sheepish, and I felt my eyes narrowing. “If my Asura consents…”

            “I told you to stop calling me that!” Sydney jumped in before I could even open my mouth, but with more aggression that I would have liked. Maybe it was for the better. The endearing way Cianán said it, the use of that pronoun… I felt myself grow calmer, as I always did whenever I was feeling that unfamiliar emotion called anger.

            “…Kris?”

            I looked up, to see Sydney glancing at me with a worry bordering on panic. He could always tell when I got angry about something, sometimes even before I did. And as much as I hated seeing that uncertainty and—dare I say it?—fear on his face, it also thrilled me to know that he cared.

            For that alone, I would let this slide.

            “I’m fine.” But just in case, I put my arm around him. Whatever my mind said, my body always felt safer when I could feel the characteristic coolness of his skin on mine. And when he settled in next to me without resistance, as though he always belonged right here, I felt as though I could take on the world. So why should I let a measly designer and a few suggestive words disturb me?

            “Ah, yes, I heard our manager said that you were the one to come up with Syd’s stage name.” I met Cianán’s gaze smugly, and planted a quick kiss on the top of Sydney’s head. “I don’t mind, you can keep calling him that all you like. He hates it, but I think it’s quite interesting.”

            “It is, isn’t it?” Cianán considered me with much of the same interest. “Not quite as intriguing as he is, of course.”

            “Of course.”

            “Would you please stop talking about me like I’m not here…? And I told him not to call me that, don’t go giving him permission without asking!”

            “Oh?” His pouting face was so cute, I just had to bend down and peck him on the lips too. “So I was wrong in thinking you were scared I’d mind?”

            “…And do you mind?”

            “No.” And I did not. He can keep his Asura all he wants, because that was no more than his delusion of the ideal model, the mysterious yet alluring creature of beauty. And while he indulged himself in those fantasies, I had the real Sydney with me, all to myself.

            Sydney must have read something along those lines in my expression, because he burst out laughing.

 

Whatever other qualms I had about Cianán and his ulterior motives, there was no denying that the man was an expert in what he did.

            “Like it?” he asked breezily as Sydney checked out his reflection in the mirror. “Personally, I am rather fond of how it turned out.”

            “It’s pretty good,” I admitted grudgingly. It _was_ , and being stubborn about it would only give him even more reason to question my judgment. The way professionals worked would allow for no doubts. If he could tell us he thought it was good, then it could be nothing else.

            “Hmm, but…”

            However, there was always someone with the right to criticize, if only because he had yet to know the pride of professionals. I smiled in spite of myself as I walked up to Sydney, keeping my eyes on our images in the mirror.

            “Something just doesn’t feel right?”

            “Yeah,” he agreed with a frown. “It fits fine, and it looks decent enough…”

            I had to stop myself from laughing at the reflection of Cianán’s expression at having his masterpiece called ‘decent’ by the very person it was designed for. It was, I admit, a good representation of Sydney. A modern twist on the classic tuxedo, making the jacket long enough to pass off for a mini dress, gave the entire look the same androgynous feel all of Sydney’s other outfits did. His hair was parted down the middle, one half let down in elegant curls over his shoulder, the other done up and hidden under one of those mini top hats that seemed to be in fashion lately.

            All in all, it was neutrally beautifully, meaning to say no one would be making any hasty conclusions about his gender—which, no matter how I argued it, Alison insisted was for the best.

            But as Sydney said, there was just something lacking…

            “I wonder…” An idea formed in my head, and without further ado I strode over to Cianán’s workbench and rummaged it for the item I had glimpsed earlier. Pulling it out of the shelf it had been clumsily stuffed into, I then went back to my boyfriend and promptly ripped off his tie. It was, like the rest of the suit, done in various shades of black, white, and grey. I gave it another glance and tossed it over my shoulder, replacing it instead with the bright red scarf I had found.

            The ribbon I tied looked considerably sloppier than I had envisioned in my head, with uneven ends, but Sydney refused me when I offered to redo it. Which could only mean—

            “I like it,” he declared with an air of satisfaction. “And don’t ask me why, I just do.”

            “It does bring out the color of your hair… and the asymmetry showcases your unconventionality even more,” Cianán agreed reluctantly. “Fine, you win this round. But in my defense, I was planning to put that scarf on another outfit I had specifically in mind for Asura…”

            I ignored that last part, and took the victory graciously.

 

“You know, I’m not feeling very loved right now,” Ryder grumbled. “We go through all the trouble to stay out of their way for so long, and he can’t even look at us once we’re back.”

            “He’s just nervous,” Ashley interjected. “It’s his first time, after all.”

            “First time? Please, we go to more red carpet events than most kids go to birthday parties!”

            “Ashe meant it’s Kris’ first time bringing a date.” Tyr could not fail to notice that I was not paying attention to a single word they said, however, so he added scathingly, “Forgetting Cynthia, of course.”

            “I already forgot her,” I replied absent-mindedly. “And besides, she doesn’t count.”

            “Of course she doesn’t,” Tyr sighed. “Did anyone?”

            I rolled my eyes at his reflection in the window.

            “I would call you cruel, but cruel people don’t torture themselves over someone else’s problems.” He yanked me back by my collar and forced me to look him in the face. “Your boyfriend will do fine. But before we let you go on with your big reveal, you mustn’t forget that you’re a part of us, too.”

            His eyes showed exactly how serious he was, and I sobered up immediately.

            “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten our promise.”

            It seemed like so long ago, and yet it was important enough to linger fresh in our memories. A simple thing, really: the oath we swore, to always show up on the red carpet together. No matter what happens, no matter who else we meet. If we were going to do something, we were going to do it together.

            It was partly the reason why we had to go our separate ways once our priorities changed, and partly the reason why, despite barely seeing other for months on end, we could get back to business as though we had never stopped.

            “Now you know what it feels like, having to meet your date halfway,” Ryder cut in. “And yeah, the first time is the worst. You always wonder if she got tired of waiting and walked off with someone else instead…”

            “Ryder!” Ashley scolded. “Sydney would never do that!”

            “Are you sure?” Ryder said smugly. “Otherwise, why would Kris look like he’s seen a ghost?”

            True, all the blood had drained from my face, but not for the reasons Ryder assumed. I had just remembered with a jolt that not only was this Sydney’s first time showing up at a red carpet event with a date, it was also his first time showing up at a red carpet event, period. The press would be all over him.

            “Hurry up, please!”

            I have to get there before he does, or else—

 

Too late.

            Once we stepped out of the limo, cameras flashed everywhere, but we were well versed enough to avoid being blinded. Which was just as well, because I cast my eye around at once to find—

            Ah. There he was.

            It was dismayingly easy to locate him, even amongst the star studded crowd. It was even easier to get out of the paparazzi that had surrounded us, as there were obviously far fewer of them than usual. And even those few did not seem to be very occupied with the job at hand. Everyone was craning to get a look at the elusive supermodel who, since his debut half a year ago, had somehow managed to avoid ever showing himself in public.

            So what had changed his mind?

            The knowledge that I held the answer—that I _was_ the answer—put a grim smile on my face even as I resisted the urge to tear Sydney out of the barricade. Tyr kept a firm hand on my shoulder, and Ryder barely tried to conceal his sniggers, both of which gave me the strength of will I needed to walk right past Sydney and his current predicament.

            “Trust him,” Cal told me simply, the first words he had spoken all evening. “Trust him to handle things.”

            Of course I did. He could handle a hoard of stalkers, and more impressively, my family, so what was a stampede of fanatic paparazzi to him? No, that was not what I was worried about—

            “Asura, look over here!”

            “Asura, give us a pose!”

            --I just worried he might handle them _too_ well.

            The plan was simple: there was no plan. I had learned the hard way that plans and Sydney didn’t go well together anyway. So we were essentially making it up as we went. Waiting for the right moment to rendezvous, the perfect way to confirm the questions that were undoubtedly in everyone’s minds.

            …But no one asked.

            “I’m beginning to think the past few days were a dream,” Ryder kicked back in his plush velvet chair, glancing sideways at where Sydney had yet to get past the front door. “Where’s all the hype about you two gone? Just an hour ago, everyone was wondering whether the last available member of TRACK was going to change his status to ‘in a relationship’.”

            Tyr was frowning at his phone, though I was fairly sure it was aimed for the person behind the message than the actual device itself. “Ali says that Sydney threw her off on the way here and made his grand appearance by himself. About--” he checked his watch, “—45 minutes ago.”

            I see. So no matter how fast we drove, there was no way we could have gotten here before he did.

            “He’s a natural, as expected.” With that mystery solved, I crossed my fingers and rested my head on my hands, watching him fondly as he charmed his way upstream. “Although at the rate he’s going, I’m worried that he might not last the night…” I sighed heavily. “I knew I should have let him sleep last night.”

            When the silence I got in response stretched on for longer than a minute, I reluctantly tore my gaze away from Sydney just in time to see my friends’ expression frozen in shock.

            In stark contrast, my face split into a wide grin.

            Seems like this would be a very fun night.

 

Sydney was seated at the table next to ours, and even after the paparazzi were chased out of the establishment, it was amusing to see how well he drew all attention away from us.

            “I feel invisible,” Tyr commented, calmly sipping his wine. “It’s quite a nice feeling, for once.”

            “Which one do you think tastes better, this one… or this one?” Ashley was comparing two different pastries on the desert platter, frowning in a way completely unhealthy for his skin. “The cream puff tastes better, but it’s harder to make…”

            “So now you’re into baking?” Cal laughed. “Or is it research for Lea?”

            “Lea wouldn’t waste her time on something like that,” I said absent-mindedly. “I don’t remember her having a sweet tooth, but even if she had a craving, it would be much easier and more practical to just buy it from a shop.”

            “Of course I know that… but don’t you think there’s just something different about handmade sweets?” Ashley was still staring down the two pastries as though trying to commit them to memory, and it was testament to Sydney’s abilities as a spotlight magnet that no one had even noticed what Ashley was doing. “Especially the pretty ones… you can really see the heart put into them.”

           I paused, registering his words. As the resident romantic, Ashley was the person to go to for matters of the heart, although he was mostly still clueless when it came to himself. His advice was not to be taken lightly. As for the expert in cooking—

            “Ryder, teach me how to bake,” I said in perfect seriousness.

            “…Shouldn’t you guys be a little more conscious of your image?” A vein was throbbing visibly, and rather comically, in Ryder’s temple.

            “No one’s going to be looking our way for a while,” Tyr casually stated the harsh obvious. “But I’m curious, Kris. Do you know why your boyfriend is so keen to work the crowds? He didn’t seem like the attention-seeking type to me.”

            “He’s not,” I agreed, steadfastly ignoring Ryder’s incredulous splutters. “Well, at least not any more. And besides, even if he wanted people to notice him, he would usually find the quickest and easiest way there.” Which was usually not good, or sometimes legal.

            This time, he was not only aiming to attract, he was also aiming to please.

            “Hey, isn’t that--?”

            Ashley’s tone made me look up sharply, just in time to see a certain famous director approach Sydney with a smile that hinted at something I didn’t like. “Hey, Cal, mind if I changed places with you?” Because Cal’s seat was basically back to back with Sydney’s, making it that much easier for me to eavesdrop—I mean, pay attention to my surroundings.

            Cal’s expression could only be described as helpless, but I pretended not to notice as I helped him move his things, all the while keeping a watchful ear out.

            “—a stage drama last year?”

            As expected, someone had noticed that the supermodel Asura was not Sydney’s first public persona. It was not as though we had meant to hide it—and yet the thought that someone else managed to connect the dots filled me with both pride and puzzling irritation.

            “Yeah, that was me…” Sydney laughed sheepishly, sounding utterly charming and yet completely unlike himself. “But do me a favor, and try not to mention it to too many people, okay? It… wasn't my finest moment.”

            Plus, once people were sure that the lead ‘actress’ in the play was now everybody’s favorite mystery, it would not be too hard to trace him back to his school, and his class. Hmm, I remember Ali mentioning something about having Sydney change schools a while ago…

            “I don’t like the look on Kris’ face.” Somewhere in the distance, I heard Ryder say.

            “Yeah, it looks like he’s planning something…”

            I was not _planning_ anything. Nothing that had not already been discussed, anyway. But I tuned out my friends easily when the director spoke up again.

            “Personally, I found your performance fascinating.” I had accepted that thanks to his own efforts, Sydney was undeniably the star of the night, but even I was exasperated when the director casually rested his hand on the back of my chair in order to lean in closer to Sydney. As though I wasn't even there…!

            “Oh, really…?” There was barely suppressed laughter in Sydney’s words, and I knew he had noticed my current predicament. So he liked to see me thrown onto the sidelines, huh? Out of sight of the director, I elbowed him forcefully in the side.

            “See? Can’t keep his hands off him even in public. Why am I even surprised…?”

            Ryder’s whisper was loud enough to reach me clearly from across the table, which meant Sydney must have heard him as well. But I did not need to see his expression to know that he would not have reacted at all, save perhaps a slight tightening of his smile, before continuing on with the conversation as though nothing had happened. “Surely you know what they say about models acting, don’t you? Nothing more than a pretty face.”

            “But you were an actor before you were a model,” the director said solemnly, shoving me even further in my seat. “And I was there. I watched you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile, gently. “Trust my judgment. You were born to act.”

            “Well, maybe because that’s all I’ve been doing all my life.” He said it casually, but there was no missing the implications of his words. “You know, I’ve been wondering this for some time now… but why are all of you so eager to talk to me? You know nothing about me, except that I’ll tell you nothing about myself.”

            “What do you mean?” The director feigned surprise. “From what I’ve gathered, the press are having a field day with the material you gave them.”

            “What material? My age? My favorite color?” Sydney waved him away. “They can’t even tell if I’m telling the truth. And when I don’t answer their other questions, they don’t try to pry any further.”

            “Isn’t that what you wanted?” The director asked curiously. “They simply respect your privacy.”

            “Paparazzi? Respecting privacy?” Sydney scoffed. “Then why would they make such a big deal about--” He stopped himself, but both the director and I knew what he was going to say.

            “If you’re referring to the rumors about you and a certain member of a boyband…” The director sounded thoughtful, and I knew I was not imagining it when he briefly put his hand on my shoulder. “They were certainly excited about it before. But perhaps when they first met you earlier tonight, they realized they wanted to know more about you as a person, and not just someone in a scandal.”

            “…And do you think it worked?”

            “Well, I know I was more than just captivated by you.” He laughed at the hesitation in Sydney’s voice, and this time I was positive he glanced pointedly at me out of Sydney’s view. “And it seems like such a waste of your talents for you to remain a mere model—so if you don’t mind, I’d like to offer you a role in my latest movie.”

            I’ll admit, that took even me by surprise. As for Sydney… I could not see his expression, but I could hear him pause for ten seconds before replying. “…That would depend on how you offer it.”

            “Of course.” The director laughed again, seemingly pleased with that response. “But you will at least consider?”

            “…All right.”

            “Then that is good enough news for me.” On cue, a song started to play, and the emcee announced the opening of the dance floor. “Ah… what great timing. Shall we seal this deal with a dance?”

            “Who said anything about a deal? I just said I would consider.” But Sydney took his outstretched hand anyway.

            “Uh-oh, Kris is starting to look--”

            “Clam it, Ryder,” I spared no words, standing up more abruptly than I should have. Around the hall, people were—finally—starting to notice that for two people involved in the latest and hottest rumors, Sydney and I had been sitting awfully close to each other—and that for two people who may or may not be in a relationship, he was well on his way to his first dance with someone else, whereas I was making a scene of myself at the table.

            “What will we do with you…?” Tyr sighed heavily as he stood up, too, and pulled the girl closest to him. “If you’re going to dance, we might as well all do it, right?”

            So one by one we found partners and made our way onto the dance floor. Admittedly, Tyr did it with the most finesse. Ryder was the known playboy amongst us, but even as he employed his best pickup lines to snag a hot actress, he seemed a little ill at ease, looking over his shoulder as though expecting someone to materialize behind him and brain him for holding another woman’s hand.

            Ashley had somehow found the sweet little patisserie behind the pastries he had been so obsessed with all night, and was oblivious to the way the girl blushed and stuttered as she tried to answer all his questions. As for Cal…

            “The song’s going to end if you don’t get out there soon.” He remained firmly in his seat, carefully sipping his sparkling wine.

            I glanced at Sydney, dancing as though he had been practicing for years. But I could not leave just yet. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? I’m sure the girls here are dying to dance with you.”

            He raised an eyebrow, half smiling. “In less than a minute, you’re going to ask the pretty little thing behind you to dance, and in a minute’s time the two of you will be on the floor—but would you really be dancing with her?”

            “…No.”

            “Precisely. Don’t worry, you haven’t lost his first dance. It’s obvious that his heart isn’t in it, and that he’s waiting for you.” Cal paused. “My heart isn’t in it either, and there’s nothing for me to wait for, so there’s no point, get it?”

            “In other words, you don’t want to pretend to have fun and spare the girls the illusion.” I sighed. “Should I say you’re too kind to others, or too cruel to yourself?”

            “It’s not a matter of cruelty, it’s simply the way I feel.” Cal smiled sadly. “So you don’t have to worry about enjoying yourself in front of me. Actually, if you want to do something for me, I suggest you get out there now. Before he gets impatient.”

            “Whatever you say.” I did not even had time to properly ask the girl behind me—she had already approached me while we were talking—because by the time we reached the dance floor, the second song was already a few bars in. Despite what Cal had said about not truly losing Sydney’s first dance, I still could not help the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I led her nearer and nearer to where he had started his second dance with the director, and only barely registered the ease with which she let me move her. As though she had expected us to go that way from the beginning—

            Before I knew what was happening, we had switched dance partners, and I was looking down at Sydney’s face for the first time all night.

            “Took you long enough.” Close up, Sydney looked even more beautiful than I remembered. All I could say was that whoever it was that had done his makeup, he or she was a genius. But then again, he or she also had the perfect material to work with.

            “Sorry.” Honestly, I was reluctant to say anything else. Right then, I just wanted to savor this dance with everything I had, and worry about the trivial matters later—but of course he would not let me.

            “…Aren’t you going to ask why I didn’t meet up with you earlier?”

            “Do I have to ask?” It was rather obvious, actually. I put my hand on his waist, feeling the soft fabric underneath my fingers as I turned him around slowly. “You swore to outshine me by the time we went public, right? Don’t think for a moment I’d forgotten.”

            He chuckled softly, resting his face on my shoulder as we swayed to the rhythm. “I would think I did a good job of that.”

            “Perfectly.” Not to say that I did not enjoy watching Sydney bask in the spotlight while I remained backstage for once, but it did give me more gratification to note, out of the corner of my eye, that the whole hall was watching both of us now, following our progress on the dance floor with wide eyes and hanging jaws.

            “Pfft… I never thought I’d see celebrities like them with an expression like that.” Sydney sounded about as exhilarated as I felt. “They look shocked!”

            “Ah, but they haven’t seen anything yet, have they?”

            The song reached its end, and so I swung him down and kissed him tenderly in the middle of the dance floor.


	16. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter what you say, some opinions do matter.

“Ooh, I didn’t know that word could be used like that…”

                Looks like you learn something new every day, even when reading hate mail. I cackled to myself, before remembering that there was no one around to hear me and give me weird looks. After Kris’ friends went back to their normal lives, the cottage was starting to feel too big for just the two of us again.

                But ah well, all I need was some time to get used to it again, right? And time was something I had plenty of.

                I stretched lazily over the couch, picking up one last fan mail before I headed off to school. Since our big reveal at the gala, the amount of mail I got multiplied tenfold overnight, and of course 90% of it weren’t exactly congratulations and compliments.

                For example, there was this one from a high school student who was convinced I was a Thai transvestite. A girl, too, from the looks of the handwriting. The language used wasn't as colorful as some of the others, but the ideas in there were interesting enough. At least I came away from it knowing more about South-East Asian black magic than I would have ever bothered finding out for myself.

                As for this one…

                I knew as soon as I opened it that it had gotten here by mistake. Proof: the first line read _Dear Kris._ But just as I was about to fold it up again, I caught a glimpse of my name—well, my stage name, actually.

                ... _I can’t help but notice that your music has changed—is it because of that Asura? As your loyal fan, I have to admit, I’m not happy with it… I trust your judgment, but perhaps you should think twice about it? We would hate it if your music were to be influenced in any way…_

…Wordlessly I put the letter back into its envelope and headed upstairs. Kris was in his study, going through his own mountain of fan mail. You kinda had to feel bad for Ali, having to carry so much mail with her at the end of every month. Especially after the drastic increase on my side—but was it just me, or did Kris have less than usual?

                I slipped into the room noiselessly, and Kris was too absorbed in his letter to notice immediately. Funny, since when did he start frowning at his fan mail…? I had gotten close enough to peek over his shoulder before he looked up, and the frown was abruptly replaced with a dazzling smile I somehow couldn’t find the energy to return.

                I knew it. There was my name in there too.

              Kris must have noticed me staring, because he hastily hid the letter behind his back. “Syd, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?”

                “Just wanted to return this.” My tone was colder than I wanted, and Kris being Kris, the envelope in my hand was enough for him to put two and two together. He paled, but I interrupted him before he could say exactly what I knew he would say. “And you’re right, I got to go.”

                “…Okay.” He leaned over to plant a goodbye kiss on my cheek, and held himself until I was at the door before blurting out, “Don’t pay any attention to what they say.”

                “Since when have I ever?” I flicked my hair a little at him on my way out. Because I never did care what the fans had to say about me. They had their right to reserve their opinions, and besides, they knew nothing about me.

                So… why was I suddenly in such a bad mood?

 

That grumpiness hung over me like a cloud all the way to my new school, and my new classmates seemed to be smart enough to pick up on it. Either way, I was granted a wide berth throughout the entire morning, although there was still more than a bit of whispering and pointing from a distance.

                You’d think these people would have more manners than that, especially considering that this was one of those posh private schools catered for stuck-up kid celebrities. Yeah, I know. I didn’t want to come here either, but Ali insisted, and there was no arguing with Kris when he pointed out that I wasn’t exactly going to get a normal education in a public high school, what with my erratic schedules.

                Particularly after I accepted that movie offer… I buried my head in my hands, feeling a migraine come on at the mere thought of my schedule from now on. And the main question was, when on earth had I agreed to take some many jobs in the first place?! No, why? How?!

                I groaned, slamming my head onto the table. The whispering immediately upped a few notches—What’s the point of _whispering_ if it’s loud enough for me to hear?!

                “—I heard he seduced the director--”

                “—how many hours has he done in rehab, I wonder?”

                “—they say the substitute teacher refused to come into our class when he found out--”

                “—heck, even our Bio teacher paled up when I told him--”

                I tolerated it for another three seconds before I got up, slammed the table and marched over to where the talk was the loudest.

                “If you have a problem with me,” I drawled, leaning on the back of the chair closest to me, “feel free to tell me. Didn’t your psychiatrist teach you that problems are that much easier to solve once you’ve said it _out loud_?”

               It was exactly like how they had reacted when I first stepped into the classroom and introduced myself as “Sydney”. They didn’t say anything, but the expressions on their faces made it clear: Shock. Disbelief. Maybe even some disgust.  The overall message was obvious, though.

                _What the heck are you doing here?  
                _ Funny. I was just asking myself the same thing.

                “What, still avoiding me?” I didn’t usually invite unnecessary conflict—usually—and I’d even chosen the seat at the far back so no one would bother me. But there was just something about the way they looked at me that really, _really_ pissed me off… “And I thought I was pretty decent-looking, too. Tell me, is it the makeup?”

                “Could you be any fuller of yourself?” The girl sitting two seats away from me finally burst out. “Don’t think we don’t know who you are! You’re that Asura, aren’t you?”

                “Give the young miss over there a prize,” I said, clapping my hands slowly and deliberately. “How did you _ever_ guess?”

                She flushed a deep crimson. “I don’t know how you ever got so close to Kris--”

                “And I don’t know how you got into this school. Wasn’t this place for—how did they put it?—‘everybody who’s anybody’?” I stared at her. “You look like a nobody to me.”

                “You--!”

                “Yeah, what about me?” I sneered. “Come on, I’m waiting. Try to be original, though. You wouldn’t believe how many times--”

                “My dad’s a cop!”

                “And that’s supposed to bother me, how? Everyone knows I got a rap sheet a mile long. Tell me something I--”

                She pointed a long, trembling finger at me. “He recognized you. He was there five years ago.”

                Five years. Five years ago, I wasn't the supermodel, I wasn't the street whore, I wasn't even the troubled orphan in Child Services. 

                “…Who else knows?” My voice wasn’t taunting now, but sorry to disappoint her, it wasn’t terrified either. It was… nothing. Almost robotic. “That was what you were telling them?”

                “Y-yeah.” My sudden change in tone seemed to have unsettled her, because she tried to hide behind her friends, who, very uncooperatively, moved out of the way. “A-anyway, it’s not as though I’m the only one saying it. Five years wasn't that long ago, you know!”

                Of course I knew that… I just kinda forgot it. “In my past experience, telling people what happened to me generally makes them pity me more than hate me.” Generally.

                “You used that to get closer to him, didn’t you?” She seemed to regain a bit of her confidence, enough at least for her to accuse angrily. “That’s low, making him love you out of sympathy!”

                “I didn’t.” I seduced him… I think. Although at the end it was hard to tell which one was leading the other on.

                “That’s what you say, but don’t you think for a second the pity card works on everyone!”

                It doesn’t. That’s why I had a psychopathic cult on my heels.

                “Class.”

                A deep voice spoke from behind me, and even though I couldn’t see who it was, I froze up as abruptly as the girl opposite me. Because I didn’t need to turn around to recognize that voice.

                “I didn’t know you worked here.” If I did, I wouldn’t have come here even if Ali had put a knife to my throat.

                “It’s nice to meet you too. From today onwards, you’ll know me as your Biology teacher.”

                Ah. No wonder they said he had paled at the mention of my name.

                “If you say so, Mr--” I stopped.

                The voice that continued sounded rather exasperated. “Just as I thought, you don’t even know my last name. It’s Brown, for your information.

                “Ronald Brown.”

 

So there you have it. My ex was now my Biology teacher.

                “You seem a bit behind on your classes,” he squinted through his glasses at my paper, frowning. “We’ll have to put in some extra effort if you want to catch up… Are you free after school today?”

                “You’re asking me--?”

                Something in my tone must have sounded—strangled, because he looked up, faintly amused.

                “I’m asking if you’re free to stay back for extra classes. I’m sure Mr Hart wouldn’t mind.”

                At that I unfroze abruptly, and had to use everything I had to stop myself from lunging at him. The result was that I had to squeeze my words through clenched teeth. “You… spoke to Kris?”

                “He didn’t tell you?” He looked up at me, surprised, the reading glasses perched on his nose giving him the image of a harmless, balding professor. “Well, then, I suppose I shouldn’t mention anything either.” He paused. “I assume he hasn’t told you that our little—club has been disbanded, either?”

                “You’ve finally given up?” I was incredulous, and didn’t try to hide it. “After all these years, all he has to do is _talk_ to you, and you give up?”

                “…You could put it that way.” There was something about that half-smile of his I didn’t like. “My point is, you don’t have to worry about us being anything more than student and teacher from now on. Although if your grades keep going this way, you might not have to worry about anything else at all.”

                I shrugged his half-assed threat away—homework was no issue when you had the smartest, most dedicated tutor back home, only too willing to help. The problem was the first part. “Are you saying that after all that had happened, all that you’d done, you want me to just forget about and start over?”

                “I was under the impression you’ve already done that.” He marked another big zero on my essay. “Is it true that the two of you have gone public?”

                “His idea.”

                “Honestly, Sydney, I’m surprised.” He handed my paper back to me, and I tucked it into my bag without a second glance. “Do you know what you’ve done? Now that the whole world knows about it, there’s no turning back. There’s no changing your mind.”

                “Well, it’s obvious you haven’t been keeping up with the news, then. Celebrity break-ups happen all the time.” Not that my saying that meant anything. It was just a statement.

                “That’s not what I mean.” Ronald looked at me closely, intensely, so much so that it nearly made me vaguely uncomfortable. Somehow I never remembered him looking at me like that before, straight on and perfectly serious. Before this, the only time he ever dared to look me in the eyes was just before he—“I don’t know, Syd. I know you’ve changed, but I would never have dreamed you’d go this far.”

                “Changed? I haven’t changed.” The uneasiness began to creep over me. “I’m the same person I ever was.”

                He shook his head. “The you I knew wouldn’t even be standing here right now. The you I’m seeing now…” His smile turned—bitter? No, just sad. “I don’t know you. Let’s keep it that way.”

                “…Okay.” What else could I say? It was no secret that I had different faces in front of different people. Who didn’t? Maybe all of those were me, maybe none of them. How many people could say they truly knew themselves anyway? I’ve done plenty of things I never thought I would, but that wasn't exactly news.

                He wanted nothing more to do with me outside of the classroom. That was understandable. Great, actually. I should have been relieved to get the whole band of stalkers off my case. But like it or not, he was probably the one living person who had known me longest, not counting the sometimes long stretches of time I spent gallivanting off with someone else before returning to him. And for him to say I had changed—

                Was there something I was missing?

 

“So? What did you want to say?”

                By lunch break, I had decided to put whatever Ronald had said to the back of my mind. As much as I hated to admit it, if Kris had sent me here even knowing that man was teaching here, I was stuck. And there were certain things I needed to do if I was to spend the next few years in relative peace.

                “You’re… Sofea, right?” I struggled to remember the name I had just gotten from our Biology teacher less than an hour ago. “Look, I’m not going to apologize for this morning.”

                “Well, neither am I!” she snapped irritably. “I don’t need--”

                “—But I’d like to ask for a favor.”

                She stopped. Good, at least I had her attention now.

                But, really… Was I really going to go through with this? I heaved a deep sigh, running my fingers through my hair, which had now completely broken free of its braid. “You said your dad’s a cop, right? Then you oughta know what kind of problems I can get into.”

                “…He’s mentioned it to me, yeah.” Her gaze on me wavered slightly, from outright hostility to sheepish… concern? “I hear you made quite some enemies.”

                “I know. Those people won’t spare me any pity, that’s for sure.” I’d almost forgotten, but there were others after me that made my stalker cult feel like nothing more than a slightly obsessed fan club. “And I’m guessing their jail sentences should be about up?”

                She nodded hesitantly. As expected from the celebrity teen detective, she seemed to have access to all her dad’s sources. Although if what the papers said were to be believed, her dad gave her the info so she could help solve them.

                “—I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about that. That’s all I ask.”

                She blinked. “So you don’t mind me spilling the beans about what you did with Mr Brown?”

                …This girl was better than I thought.

                “I don’t mind. It’s not a secret, anyway.” I shrugged rather helplessly. “It seems to me people find out about it sooner or later. Hiding it would just make it worse.”

                Besides, the one person whose opinion I cared about didn’t give two flips about it, so what else did I have to worry about?

                “Then why do you want me to lie about that other thing?”

                “I never said anything about lying,” I said impatiently. “I just said you don’t have to tell anyone about it. It’s my problem, no need to get anyone else involved. And don’t say it so loudly!”

                “Who’s gonna overhear us? We’re on the rooftop, geez.” But her gaze had softened, as though something I said had passed an invisible test as far as she was concerned. “If you don’t want me to say it, I won’t. Although I believe some people have the right to know.”

                I tilted my head. “You seem quite fond of Kris. A fan?”

                “Not really.” She puffed up her chest. “I’m Detective Dare’s protégé, so I had the opportunity to meet TRACK a few times. I just thought they were nice acquaintances, that’s all.”

                “…Do you always get so indignant over acquaintances?” As I thought, I would never understand how girls thought. But by Detective Dare, she meant Ashley’s girlfriend, right? If she got to know TRACK through those two, the first thing she’d see was their best side. If the one she’d met was Ryder, though, that’d be a different story altogether.

                “If I like them, why not?” She studied me some more, and seemed to smile. “Same goes for you. If you ever find yourself in a fix you don’t want to pull a certain someone into, you can always call me.”

                My jaw nearly dropped open. “A few hours ago, you were hurling insults at me!”

                “A few hours ago, I didn’t know you as well as I do now.” She flipped her hair at me as she turned away, ending the conversation on her own note. “And besides, I heard that the cute substitute teacher changed his mind. Better hurry to class if you don’t want to miss him.”

                After she left, I just stood there for a good two minutes, staring at the sky until my neck hurt. And then, once the bell had finished ringing, making us both firmly and irredeemably late, I called out to him.

                “You can stop hiding. I know you’re there.”

                “…Was it that obvious?”

                I rolled my eyes in the direction of the water tank. “No, you’re just predictable. A substitute teacher, really?”

                “It was better than being janitor for the day. And you have to admit, I’d be perfect for the job.”

                “Teachers don’t follow students up onto roofs and go late to--” My words died in my throat as he finally stepped out into my line of vision. “ _Tell me that’s not real._ ”

                “Of course not,” he said, sounding like he was going to laugh. “Ali would kill me if it was.” And Kris pulled off the most ridiculous red McDonald’s wig I’d ever seen to reveal his familiar blonde head.

                I heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Forget Ali, _I’d_ kill you. And really? That’s your idea of a disguise?”

                “No, it’s actually a joke,” he said with the straightest face possible. “I left my disguise downstairs, since I figured I wouldn’t need it anymore.”

                I had to crack a smile at that. “How long have you been watching me, waiting for the right moment to jump out to my rescue?”

                “All day,” he admitted, moving over to wrap an arm around me. “I’ll say it, I was wrong to worry. Despite the extenuating circumstances, you handled yourself brilliantly.”     

                “I know I did,” I laughed, leaning deeper into his embrace. “And are you sure teachers—even substitute teachers—should be getting touchy feely with students during school hours?”

                “I’m pretty sure this school forbids any student-teacher relationships outside school hours, too,” he said mildly. “But don’t worry, we’re in the camera’s blindspot now. As long as we don’t say anything, they’ll be none the wiser.”

                He even had the time to check out the school’s security surveillance… I sighed again, inwardly. “So you know that girl, Sofea?”

                “I have met her a few times. What were you talking about?”

                “You,” I said honestly. “She seems quite fond of you.”

                “Oh, really? Well, anything as long as you get along. You can’t survive in school without a friend or two.”

                “I think she’s my first girl friend.” My mouth was keeping up the small talk, but my eyes were closely gauging his reaction. He didn’t seem to be lying. And when I was bartering with Sofea I had made especially sure to stand with my back against the wind, so my words wouldn’t carry. After finding out that he’d even gone to the trouble of staking out the security, can you blame me for wanting to hide my other possible problems?

                He’d overreact for sure.

                “I bumped into Ronald again just now.”

                “Oh, yeah, that reminded me.” I looked at Kris curiously. There wasn't anything odd about his expression, just that melting tenderness that made me want to blush and look away. “He said you guys met before. How come I didn’t know about that?”

                “It was when you were gone that time. Nothing much, just a chat over tea and biscuits.” He hugged me tighter, and nibbled my ear. “Although just now he did mention something I didn’t like. You know, I really wish you would talk these things over with me before I had to hear them from someone else.”

                My body tensed a little, trying to remember any details in our conversation I wouldn’t want Kris to—

                “He said you needed help with your Bio. Now, why didn’t you tell me that before?”

                Ah, crap.


	17. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no shortages of storms in this relationship, so they learn to appreciate the calm when they get it.

“Don’t leave me, please!” Sydney sobbed, sprawled onto the floor and holding on to my leg desperately. “Don’t do this to me, I beg you!”

            “…I’m sorry.” My voice was cold, but not as cold as my eyes. In the face of his heart-wrenching sorrow, I kicked him off and swept away, not turning back once, not even when his broken wail rang through the room.

            “ _And cut!_ ” The director looked out from behind the camera, flashing us a grin and a thumbs-up. “As expected—No, you were even better than I thought!”

            “It was nothing.” Sydney had picked himself up before I could offer him my hand, and was now brushing down the dirt on his clothes indifferently. “So we’re done here?”

            Instead of getting offended as I had feared, the director laughed. “Exactly like the rumors said, all the way down to the attitude!”

            “It’s fine as long as I get the job done, right?” Sydney raised an eyebrow at the person who was supposed to be his boss, looking irresistible even with puffy eyes and tears marks down his cheeks. I couldn’t help myself, reaching over with a handkerchief. In a second, that withering gaze was focused on me instead, though since he only held it for a few heartbeats before turning away with a sigh, I could safely assume he was giving me the green light.

            I had never seen Sydney at work before. It was hard to imagine he was the same person who could lounge around on practically every surface in the house. I was already beginning to like this stranger, though, so all was well.

            “Honestly, this audition is more of a formality than anything else.” The director’s expression turned solemn, though I fancied there was still a hint of a smile on the edges of his lips when he looked at us. “The script should be in your mailbox in…” he checked his watch, “ten minutes.”

            “That doesn’t sound fair.” I should not have said anything—after all, I was only there for support and last minute stand-ins, but I could not risk people resenting Sydney, or worse, for such a blatant show of favoritism.

            “You say that because you don’t know the business like I do.” The director seemed to be in a very good mood, because even my accusations were not fazing him. “I’ve seen the other people auditioning, they’re not even close. It’s only unfair to the other directors out there that I got to this kid before they did.” He laughed again. “Or you could just credit that to my superior sense of judgment, eh?”

            “Whatever. After this, we’re even.” Sydney stretched out lazily, and then pulled my hand. “Let’s go, Kris, I’m hungry.”

            As we walked past the director, I swore he met my gaze, and winked.

            “I think he likes you.” I mentioned it thoughtfully while Sydney was changing out of his costume. I had to hand it to them, they worked fast. Those clothes fit a bit too well considering the auditions were still going on in the studio.

            “What, you jealous?” He tossed the specially-tailored outfit unceremoniously onto a nearby chair, looking more at ease in the turtleneck shirt I had told him cost ten bucks at the thrift shop, and artistically faded jeans.

            “No, I’m glad. It’s about time you expanded your career.”

            He eyed me skeptically. “What do you mean, about time? I’ve barely been modelling for half a year.”

            “Even a month would be too long. Modelling was always the stepping stone, and acting the final goal.” I hugged him from behind, breathing in his scent. As I thought, mint was great on him. But I think I still preferred goat’s milk. Maybe I should try eucalyptus next?

            “That’s the last time I let you choose my soap,” he sighed, reading my mind. “Come on, before they kick us out.”

            “He wouldn’t do that to his rising star.”

            “Haha. I _am_ starving, you know.”

            “Isn’t it a bit early for lunch?”

            He checked his watch, which I knew would show ten in the morning. “Hmph. Looks like we got this over with faster than I’d expected.”

            “Meaning we have the rest of the day to ourselves.” I was happy, and it showed in my voice, on my reflection in the mirror. Since Sydney started school again, I was forced to set curfews on weeknights, and we were swamped with homework or assignments in the daytime. It was still a hundred times better compared to our chaotic holidays earlier, and sometimes just knowing that he was sitting behind his table in the next room was enough to set me humming as I worked, but that did not mean I did not appreciate a day out together.

            Besides, what better time was there for a date than Saturday morning?

            “You’re planning something, aren’t you?” Sydney’s suspicious gaze turned exasperated when I pulled out what could only be called a picnic basket from the closet. “I stand corrected. You’ve already planned something.”

            “Not really. Even I didn’t think we could get out of here so soon, so right now we can do whatever you want.” As long as we could find a good park for a picnic by lunchtime.

            “What _can_ we do? Just in case you forgot, we can’t exactly hang out at the shopping mall. Not if we don’t want a mob on our heels.”

            In lieu of a response, I whipped my glasses off my face and put them on him instead.

            “…These are store-bought.” He looked rather like nothing would surprise him anymore. “Did you get them at the dollar shop?”

            “No, the garage sale next door.” They looked pretty good, so I could not resist. And of course they looked even better on him. “See how big a difference it makes on you?”

            “More like, do you see how different you look without them?” He was studying me closely, and his eyes widened even more when I very deliberately tousled my usually impeccable hair.

            “I bet even my friends wouldn’t recognize me like this.” I could not keep the smugness out of my voice. After all, less is more, and even I thought this was as ingenious as disguises went. Much better than a red afro wig, at any rate. “What do you think?”

            “…I think you should change your look more often.” He sighed dramatically, but I saw him hide a little smile that sent my heart fluttering. “It says something when just changing your hairstyle makes you practically unrecognizable.”

            “That’s why only you get to see this side of me,” I said in all seriousness. “Now let’s do something more about your disguise, shall we? I’m fairly sure this studio has more props we can use.”

            And more importantly, I was almost certain that the director would not mind us using any of it.

 

Half an hour later, I was driving the rented car on the outskirts of town, occasionally sneaking sideways glances at the boy in my passenger seat.

            “How many times must I tell you, keep your eyes on the road!”

            “If you say so.” My grin was about as glowing as his scowl was glowering.

            After he had insisted, extremely firmly, that he refused outright to cross-dress again, and considering the fact that we were looking for a normal drive along the coast and not a trip to Narnia, our choices back at the studio had been rather limited. Still, I did quite well making do with what we had, if I may say so myself.

            The Sydney who was glaring resolutely out the window now was not immediately recognizable, mainly because I had tucked all of his flowing titian hair underneath a very Pokemon-like baseball cap. Coupled with his small build, the instant effect was to make him look even younger than he already did, and after that I kind of went wild.

            I was still surprised at how well he could pull off breeches and buckled shoes without looking like he had just stepped out of a history textbook.

            “Hey, Kris!”

            Just when I had made up my mind to focus on the road now and feast my eyes later, Sydney grabbed my arm and pointed excitedly at something in the distance. It took all my years of driving experience to balance the wheel with one hand and not send us careening into the bushes, but once the car was stable again I spared a glance to see what had gotten Sydney so worked up.

            What I saw nearly made me burst out laughing. Nearly.

            “Can we go? Please, please, pretty please?”

            And that was when I started regretting dressing him up like a prohibition era paperboy—the cap being the one notable exception-- because the childish wonder sparkling in his eyes behind those glasses made me feel like doing something much more illegal than driving while distracted.

            I turned back to the road before things got too dangerous, in more ways than one, and answered without thinking.

            “Of course. I said we’ll go wherever you want, remember?”

            And that was how our Saturday morning date ended up at the beachside amusement park.

 

The good news was our disguises worked splendidly. The bad news was they worked a bit _too_ well.

            “Hey, mister, wanna buy a balloon for your little boy?”

            What I _wanted_ to do was protest, but before I could say anything Sydney had turned onto me with those shining eyes again, so all I could do was fork out two dollars for the biggest, bluest balloon the man had.

            As the day went on, I began to suspect something, and by the time noon rolled around, I was almost a hundred per cent certain.

            “Sydney… do you sometimes find yourself behaving differently, depending on what you’re wearing?”

            “Huh? Whachu mean?” he mumbled through a mouthful of cotton candy, swallowing before continuing, “That’s the whole point of costumes, isn’t it? When I want to be sexy, or cute, or badass, I wear different things. You’ve seen my closet, haven’t you?”

            I had, and all I could say about it was now I understood how he had managed to seduce so many, so different people in the past.

            But even if he did not realize it, this time was different. I pondered over that as he dragged me from one attraction ride to another. After all, he had not dressed this way willingly. And yet, it was evidently a much younger boy who was spinning the teacup ride with everything we got. It was a younger boy—twelve? thirteen?—who insisted on shooting down every bottle even if he could not get any better a prize.

            “Here, for you.” Although I think it was Sydney who stuffed the enormous purple teddy bear into my hands with a glint of sadism in his eyes.

            If he was planning to humiliate me by making me lug around something so—striking, he had another thing coming. Setting aside the fact that I was genuinely, unspeakably happy to receive something he had fought hard for with his own two hands, he was forgetting that just as he was not here as the model Asura, I was not here as the TRACK drummer Kris Hart.

            For today, I was just plain old Kris, and plain old Kris was perfectly fine with carrying a huge purple teddy bear around an amusement park, as long as Sydney was the one who had given it to me.

            Plus, I did not tell him this, but it seemed to me that practically everyone around us had taken it for granted that we were father and son, or at least brothers with a very significant age difference.

            Seeing as it was our first outdoor date in a while, I was not quite sure how to react to that.

            “You made this?” The moment of truth was of course when we settled under a tree for lunch, and Sydney warily peeled open the cover on the picnic basket. After that I had the satisfaction of watching his eyes widen and his jaws slack, feeling even prouder of myself than that time my professor praised my thesis in front of the entire lecture hall.

            Goodness knows more effort went into this picnic lunch than the thesis, after all.

            “Seriously. You made this?” Sydney had discovered the delicate pastries buried deep within the basket, and was scrutinizing them with an invisible magnifying glass. “Honest?”

            “Honest. And I’d appreciate it if you don’t sound so incredulous. It rather takes the fun out of things.”

            “Then you tell me, how should I sound?” He crossed his arms and pouted at me, looking so adorably defiant I just had to reach over and peck him on the forehead, regardless of what casual onlookers might accuse us of.

            “I don’t know. Happy? Surprised?”

            “…Well, that goes without saying.” He still did not look either, but the stubborn blush on his cheeks left me with no doubt at all regarding his true feelings. As such, the only thing stopping me from flinging my arms around him right then was the pastries between us. So I settled with lying, belly-down, on the grass, propping my head up on my hands and watching him as he worked through the food I had gotten up at three in the morning to prepare.

            That reminded me, I should send Ryder something as a token of thanks.

            “Aren’t you eating anything?”

            “Nah, I’m still full from all the tasting I did,” I lied smoothly.

            His eyes narrowed suspiciously at me. “That was ages ago.”

            “…It’s too sweet for me.” Had I really thought for a moment there that I could pull the wool over his eyes?

            “Then why did you make it so sweet?!” He knew the answer, so either he was too embarrassed to acknowledge it, or he did not understand how that could be a reason. Nonetheless, there was only one answer, whether he accepted it or not: I might not have a sweet tooth, but he did, and I had not made this lunch for myself.

            “I can get a sandwich from the stall over there,” I offered helpfully, and he looked up from his ransacking the basket just long enough to give me one of his dirtiest glares yet.

            “Geez, there’s nothing but sweets in here! How is that a proper lunch?”

            “Sorry, I got carried away with dessert. It took longer than I expected to make, and by the time I was done--”

            “You know what? Forget it. I think the pastry itself isn’t too sweet, the problem is the cream…” He stared daggers at the seemingly-harmless cream puff, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally sighed heavily and set about sucking out all the cream I had painstakingly squeezed inside just this morning.

            “What are you doing?” The answer was obvious enough, but I just had to ask. It was more than I could do to keep the laughter out of my voice, though.

            As expected, he just rolled his eyes at me until he had cleaned out most of the cream. And then he licked the remnants off his lips and roughly thrust the empty pastry at me. “Here.”

            “Feed me.” I said it half-jokingly, for the sake of seeing his flustered anger or indignant outburst. When he did neither, however, and just hesitated there, his face turning scarlet, my heart did an involuntary flip of its own. He was not—Surely not—

            “…S-say aah.”

            I stared at him, still blushing madly, not meeting my eyes even as he brought the pastry to my lips. A voice at the back of my head was telling me not to take advantage of him in these extenuating circumstances—After all, I was not delusional enough to think this was something he would ever do normally. No, this must have been my theory in action, proof that his behavior was, in some ways, affected by his appearance—

            And yet, I gladly ate the pastry right out of his fingers, feeling like the luckiest man on earth.

 

After lunch, we had a little nap under the shady tree, although most of the time I was only pretending to be asleep, so I could watch his peaceful face on my lap and stroke his silky hair.

            There was no way I could have let him sleep with the cap still on, right? It was a risk, but honestly letting his hair down just turned him from a cute little boy to an equally cute little girl.

            The weather was perfect for a day out, sunny but not too hot, with a lazy breeze that seemed to carry the Sandman’s sand. I had never felt that relaxed for as long as I could remember, and perhaps it was unsurprising that I would fall asleep at one point, only to wake up and find Sydney staring at me.

            “…Had a good nap?”

            “Yes, thank you.” Nothing put me in a better mood than seeing Sydney first thing in the morning—or in this case, late afternoon.

            “You’ve been overworking yourself again,” he chided me disapprovingly. “Sleep a little longer, it’s not as though we have anywhere to be.”

            “No, I’ve rested enough.” Even if we did not have any particular place in mind—or maybe it was precisely so—I did not intend to spend any more of our precious time together doing something I can easily do at home, alone. “Besides, it’s getting late.”

            Sydney gave me another long searching look, and finally smiled. “Yeah, it is. And the sunset’s beautiful.”

            That was when I looked up, and felt my breath catch in my throat.

            The blue sky had been dyed the softest shade of pink, with wisps of purple lining the horizon. The sun itself was setting right behind the Ferris Wheel, big and bold in deep orange, and yet its light was not in any way piercing, or painful to look at, even when we were staring directly at it. The buzz of the busy crowd had receded to a peaceful hum-- It felt as though everyone was watching the sun set too, sending it off with melancholic gazes.

            And then the sun disappeared behind the horizon, just as the Ferris Wheel lit up in all its glory, loud and brilliant in neon, lighting up the night in a way that threatened to wipe away our memories of the sun even before its rays vanished.

            “Let’s go there next?” Sydney whispered, as though afraid to break the spell of beauty before it wore off, and I simple nodded in response. As one we stood, and left the quiet of the tree to rejoin the boisterous night time crowd.

            Perhaps inevitably, there were even more people here at dinner time than in the morning, and in the middle of such an influx of people, Sydney seemed all the smaller. It was not long before we got separated, and I had to make do with following him with my gaze, making sure he never left my field of vision as I struggled upstream in an attempt to reach him.

            It did not help that I had the constant, nagging feeling of being watched. No, followed. Several times I turned around abruptly, but there were just too many people for me to determine which one of them had been tailing us for some time now. Well, whoever it was, they would not dare to make a move with so many witnesses around.

            Still, I was sorely tempted to warn Sydney. I would have, if I had not been so sure that it would put a definitive end to our date.

            Never once did he look back to check if I was still there, presumably because he knew beyond doubt that I would be. But there was also the possibility that he simply got swept away with the crowd, and forgot about me, forgot himself. Because although for the most of the time I was watching him from behind, once or twice he would turn to stare at a happy, loving family as they squeezed past him, and what little I saw of his face would make my heart twist painfully in my chest.

            So… it was never a matter of his clothing. Of course it wasn't, I ridiculed myself wryly, no matter how advantageous such a trait would be in his new line of work. There was another more logical explanation for the way Sydney was acting today—although personally, I preferred my now defunct theory, because at least being a costume chameleon did not give him that expression I just saw.

            I knew better than to actually bring it up with him, though. So when I had finally fought my way back to his side, the only thing I could do was quietly, naturally, take his hand.

            As I suspected, he did not resist, or protest, just squeezed my hand tighter as though to make up for all the times he had had to come to a place like this alone, surrounding by happy families.


	18. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When trouble knocks on your door, it never comes alone.

“Done!” I threw my hands—and my paper-- into the air, stretching backwards over my chair until I heard my spine crick.

                “I’d appreciate if you can just pass up your work the normal way,” Ronald said rather helplessly as he lunged to snatch my paper out of the air. After giving it a quick, professional once-over, he continued, “Looks okay. Although next time you should at least try to complete it on the same day as the rest of your peers.”

                “Don’t ask for much, do you?” I glanced at him. It was still hard to see him as my Biology teacher, when I’d seen him in many more… interesting ways.

                “What are you thinking?” he asked with a sigh, as though he already knew the answer. “How many times do I have to tell you? I really only view you as a student now.”

                “Really?” I couldn’t keep the suspicion out of my voice. “Because it’s not that easy for me.”

                “I can tell. That’s not the look you’d give a teacher.” And then, looking and sounding exasperated, he reached over to pat my head.

                I stared at him wordlessly, letting him ruffle my hair to his heart’s content before finally speaking out in a strangled voice, “You never did that before.”

                “God knows I wanted to,” he replied, actually having the nerve to sound… _fond._ “But if memory serves me correctly, I didn’t have much use of my hands in our previous relationship.”

                Of course he didn’t, at his own request. But now, oddly, I was having a hard time connecting the man handcuffed to the bed with the wizened-looking Biology teacher sitting behind his desk. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

                “You never used to ask for my permission before, either.”

                “I was just trying to be nice!”

                “You never--”

                “Forget it! Just tell me…” I paused for a fraction of a heartbeat. “What did you think of me then? How do you think of me now? How… do the others think of me?”

                “That’s more than _a_ question.” But after I gave him a hard glare, he gave my questions fair consideration anyway. “If by ‘the others’ you mean all of your exes, I think I speak for all of us when I say: We don’t know what to think.”

                That wasn't an answer enough for me, and one look at my expression told him as much, so he chuckled lightly and took his time finding the right words.

                “Let’s begin with what I used to think of you. Do you remember how we first met?

                “…Of course.” He hadn’t exactly picked me up at the local gay bar. “You were my social worker.”

                “And I’ve let you get away with a lot of things, haven’t I?” He sighed, remorse heavy in his voice. “It was unforgivable, what I did. Even if no one else ever ratted me out, I could not continue carrying out my duties with a clear conscience.”

                “You quit?” I tilted my head aside.

                “As soon as I got you your status as an emancipated minor. Funny, to this day I wonder how I managed to pull that off.” He read the confusion on my face. “Yes, we were still together then, by the loosest definition of the word. And I’m not surprised you didn’t notice. There was much you didn’t notice back then, not just with me, but with the others as well.”

                “You were talking to the others even back then?” To say that part of my life was messed up was an understatement. I was new to the business, see, and I didn’t know how to coordinate just yet. Let’s just say that even if Ronald had been my oldest and longest relationship, at most points he wasn't my only one.

                “That was my first clue,” he said feebly. “I didn’t know too many other people who could exchange contacts, or even talk civilly to the people their supposed partner was having an affair with.”

                I dutifully ignored the last part. “Clue? To what?”

                “To the fact that I didn’t just view you as a sex partner. Or a charge as a social worker.” He paused, looking straight at me for so long it made me uncomfortable. “Do you know where your real charm is, Sydney? The real reason why you managed to get so many people so crazy for you?

                “It’s your pride. You’re young, and alone, and damaged. You should be vulnerable. You should be something we want to protect. You were something I was supposed to protect,” he added sheepishly. “But when we got close to you, instead of being vulnerable, you made yourself invincible. Impenetrable. You took our pity and threw it back at us, tenfold. And it fascinated us.”

                I felt my mouth go dry. “This… this was what the others thought, too?”

                “We’ve had quite some time to talk,” he admitted. “You have a lot of tricks, Sydney, and a lot of faces, but this is the gist of it. Whether you’re playing the dominant role or the pity card, we all knew your vulnerability was a show. Just as our bravado was a show. When we were with you, we could pretend all was fine with the world. Or we could pour everything out into your arms. Ironically, you were so unpredictable, it made you were the only stable thing in our lives.”

                “That makes no sense.”

                “None of it does,” he laughed. “I think that every time I look at us. At the others. Do you realize amongst the people you’ve seduced, there’s a senator, a police detective and a headmaster? Although I suppose none of that is more impressive than making your social worker your personal sex slave,” he added on hindsight.

                There was…? I tried to remember each of the people he mentioned, but it was frustratingly difficult.

                He whistled. “Well, that sucks. Should I tell them you can’t even remember them? At the very least, it’d make a good laugh at the meetings.”

                No, I still couldn’t remember. So I took the frustration out on him instead, demanding venomously, “You still have _meetings_? If you have something to say to me, I’m all ears!”

                “You know we can’t do that,” he said, using that same annoyingly knowing look. “If we did, _he_ would skin us alive.”

                I didn’t need to ask to know who he was talking about, but there was still something I couldn’t wrap my head around, and it was driving me insane. “What does Kris have to do with any of this?”

                “He really hasn’t told you.” It was a statement, not a question, and the way he shook his head saying it made me want to grab his head and order him to answer me seriously. “But I’m curious, so I’ll ask. Where did you disappear to that time without telling him, making him murderous enough to come threaten us one by one?”

                He did… what?

                “I haven’t finished my point, by the way. The most impressive thing isn’t how you managed to attract such a variety of people… it’s how none of us have exposed you, or tried to silence you. Permanently. And don’t think we’re not capable of it, either. I know Bob has more blood on his hands than he cares to let on.”

                Bob was the… detective? No, the senator. I think.

                “You still don’t remember,” Ronald sighed helplessly. “Ah, well, at least that would make Lucy’s day.”

                “I remember Lucy.”

                “You do? Great. I bet you didn’t know they got married.”

                “They _what?”_

“Like I said, a variety of people.” He chuckled. “Although none as impressive as that Mr Hart, I suppose. Do you remember the longest time you’ve stayed with anyone?”

                I hesitated, making sure I got the facts right before replying. “Half a year. With you.”

                “That’s right.” He looked relieved, and a little sad. “That’s as long as you’ve been with that man now.”

                Half a year… it felt like just yesterday I kissed him on the street. And it was three months ago, when we had only been dating for half that time, when he paid each of my exes a personal visit…

                I shook myself out of it. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

                “I’m sure I’ve answered at least one of them.” Ronald sounded amused, but then he sobered up immediately. Because he knew what I meant.

                “What do you guys think of me now?” I hesitated. “Tell me the truth.”

                “I already told you, and it was the truth.” Who was it answering me with such seriousness? My social worker, my first fling, or my Biology teacher? Before I’d known it, he had become so much to me, and yet I couldn’t see anything at all in those deep-set eyes. “We don’t know what to think.”

 

“Had problems with school?”

                Trust Kris to notice as soon as I stepped into the house. Then again, it would be hard _not_ to notice. I glanced at the clock, confirming what I already knew—that I was more than just a little late coming back.

                And yet, I hesitated before explaining briefly, “Biology homework.”

                “I see.” And that was it. He knew what that meant, and he chose not to question it. Not because he didn’t care, or mind, but because he knew he could trust me.

                So how was that supposed to make me feel? How was any of this supposed to make me feel?

                “…Syd?”

                “It’s nothing.” I shook it off, and headed for the kitchen. It was getting late, if I didn’t get started soon, dinner—

                I stopped, sleeves rolled up, hands paused above the stove. Did I ever worry about dinner in my other relationships? Did I ever worry about _anything_?

               “It’s not nothing.” Soundless as a cat, he had snuck up on me and had his arms around me before I could even react. His breath on my neck was as warm as always—making me feel even colder than I usually did.

                “If I say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.” My words sounded brittle, but instead of taking offense he just hugged me tighter.

                “Liar.”

                 I sighed heavily, summoning up patience from deeper than I’d had to dig for a while. “Go sit in the living room until I’m done, okay? You’re getting in the way.”

                That last part came out harsher than I had intended, and I felt him tense, brief but long enough for me to be sure I wasn't imagining it. He tried to make up for it, though, by kissing me softly on the top of my head, and whispering a quick, “Okay. Love you,” before leaving.

                And once I knew he was gone, I let myself slide to the ground.

                What was I doing? I hadn’t realized it before, but Ronald was right. I _was_ changing. Never before had such an innocent touch made my skin flare up as suddenly as the realization made my blood freeze. Never before had I succumbed to someone the way I did to him.

                Never before had someone’s opinions mattered so much to me.

                I forced myself back up to my feet and started on the coleslaw, my hands trembling so much I was sure I’d lose a few fingers. It had been six months since we met. How could time have passed so quickly? How could I not have _noticed_? And just… just how much have I changed?

                As I cooked, I replayed the past six months on slow motion. And by the time I was done, the whole world seemed to be lagging, as my mind struggled to process what I’d done. What I had to do.

                As though in a trance, I made my way back to the living room, my ears just barely hearing the news blaring from the speakers. A certain someone was walking out from prison a free man today, a man whose name I was all too familiar with. A name from my past, before even Ronald. Definitely before Kris.

                And yet, when Kris noticed me standing in the doorway, he reacted instinctively, switching off the TV before I could see that man’s broad smile greeting journalists at the prison gates. As soon as I looked at Kris, though, all thoughts of that man disappeared from my mind.

                “Guess what?” Kris was grinning, like he had gotten the best news of his life. His ice blue eyes seemed to sparkle every time he looked at me—so bright it hurt, and so different from the way he looked at everyone else it was surreal. But not as surreal as his next words. “Did you hear? Parliament just legalized gay marriages.”

                There was a heavy, awkward silence as he waited for my response, and I didn’t know I was supposed to respond.

                “…So?” At the end, that was the most I could come up with. “What does that have to with me?”

                His grin slipped, and I finally caught on. Wait. Hold on. You mean… me? Marriage? As in, till death do us part?

                I couldn’t help it.

                I laughed.

                And laughed and laughed and laughed—

                “Sydney.” For the first time ever, I thought I heard something different in Kris’ voice. Irritation? Anger? He’d never really gotten angry at me before. Suddenly, I wanted to know what he was like when he was angry. Really angry.

                “Are you mad?” I cooed. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you. Come on, scold me, yell at me. Anger isn’t any good pent up, you know.”

                “Sydney.” He said my name with such infuriating familiarity, like he’d been saying it all his life. Like it belonged to him. “Sydney, I’m not mad. Just worried. What’s wrong with you today?”

                He wasn't lying. I could hear it in his voice. He wasn't angry, just concerned. Always forgiving, always condoning. Selfless.

                “Kris. Tell me, how long have we been together?”

                “Six months this Thursday,” he said immediately. “I was planning--”

                “Whatever you planned, cancel it. It’s over.”

                “…Pardon?”

                “I said, it’s over. We’re done. Six months has been long enough.” Longer than almost anything else. Any longer, and I’d never be able to pull out.

                I waited for him to protest, to kick up a fuss, but—nothing. He just stood there, frozen still like a statue, but I saw the fire in his eyes. They were burning black, like they might burn themselves out at any moment, but  even so they were only going to burn brighter, hotter, higher, until they got the answer they wanted.

                What answer, though?

                “I thought you knew me, Kris. I thought you knew what kind of person I was. Marriage?” I threw my head back and laughed again, laughed so hard I felt the moisture dampen my eyes. “Are you kidding? Because you say you’re not angry, but I don’t hear you laughing with me. Don’t tell me you’re serious? It’s a joke. Me? Married?” And then my voice turned cold, my laughter turned cruel. But still laughing, still smirking. “You know who I am. You can’t pin me down. I’m unpredictable. Uncontrollable. Invincible.”

                People around me change, and I don’t notice it, because my world remains the same, and I don’t give a shit about anything outside of it. Anybody who isn’t keeping here with me is free to walk out. Or better, I walk out on them.

                “It’s been a fun six months, Kris. I could almost say it was the most fun I ever had in my life. Too bad it has to end.”

                If I stay any longer, I’d be making myself vulnerable. I’d be tying myself down. And if I did that, I wouldn’t be me anymore.

                “Why aren’t you saying anything?! You’re mad, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes! Come on, if you’re so pissed, do something about it! Yell at me! Hit me! Hit me, dammit!”

                And if I’m not me, I don’t know what I am anymore.

                “ _Damn you, Kris! Just do something!”_

               I needed to end this, end this toxic thing before it took over my life. Before it changed me to the point of no return. It was okay, I was still safe. Six months isn’t that long. I can still turn back. All I had to do was cut all my ties with him, right? All I had to do was end this.

                “ _Aren’t you man enough to hit me?_ ”

                All I needed was for him to hit me. To hate me. Then I can move on, or move back, and fix everything about me that he’d torn apart. Torn apart, and rebuilt to his liking. So… all I had to do was tear down what he’d done…

                “ _Don’t you hate me?_ ”

                …tear down everything that we’d done together…

                _“Hate me!”_

                …tear apart everything we had together…

                _“Please… hate me…”_

                …so I could go back to that safe, secure… lonely, lonely world.

                Finally— _finally—_ Kris moved. A small step taken towards me, and then another, and then he was lunging at me. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact. It would hurt—it already hurt, but it was nothing I couldn’t get over. After this pain, I just had to pick myself up again, pick up the pieces of the wall he’d torn down so I could build it up again. I’d done it before. I’d done it with every person I ever had a relationship with. I’d played them from atop my tower, watching and laughing as they hammered at my walls with their puny fists. And as soon as they so much as put a crack in those walls, I’d chased them off, or ran away myself, leaving them to follow me helplessly with their desperate gazes.

                But this time, I’d been too late to notice. It was more than just a crack. He had broken down everything, brick by brick, until I stood before him naked. And before my very eyes, he had built another wall, this time around both of us—

                The only way I would be able to break out if he landed the first hit, created the first crack.

                He was so close now, close enough for me to feel the heat rolling off his body in waves, close enough for me to see his shadow looming over me even with my eyes closed. Any second now—

                I felt my body move, not away, but towards him. Instead of punching my lights out, instead of sending me flying into the wall, he had pulled me in, pulled me into his arms, crushing me against his chest, trying to reduce all distance between us—

                How cruel. To deny me that short burst of physical pain, making me hurt that much more, that much longer, that much deeper…

                “You’re the one being cruel here,” he whispered in a broken voice, as though reading my mind. “Saying those words with face… that voice… You know how hard it is for me to deny you anything. You know how hard it is for me to ignore anything you say.”

                Then obey me one last time, and let me go. I won’t ask anything of you ever again. Just… let me go.

                Let me go. Three simple words. If I said them, he would probably listen. If I said it, he would let go.

                But I couldn’t say it. And he didn’t let go.

                “Just so you know, there’s no point. Just this time, I’m not going to listen to anything you say.” His voice suddenly became firm. Determined. And when he pulled away from me to look me in the eyes, I saw nothing less in his eyes. The fire was still there. But now it was simmering instead of burning, simmering with an unshakable resolve. “I already lost you once. Or at least, I thought I lost you once. Back then, I thought you’d left me for good, and I thought that by letting you go, I was doing what’s best for you. For both of us.”

                Did he mean… that time I went back to his hometown with his sister? Just thinking about it made my ears burn—What on earth had that woman fed me, to make me do something so… uncharacteristic?

                “Yeah, I don’t like thinking about that time either.” He somehow still found it in him to laugh, and I hated him for it. “My point is, it was hard enough trying to let you go when I wasn't sure you wanted to go. And when you came back—that was when I decided that I was never letting you go ever again. Not even if you spat in my face, ordered me to leave, or begged me on your knees…” In contrast to his harsh words, his eyes were tender and warm, threatening to melt me where I stood.

                I couldn’t help it. It was weak, and it was cowardly, but I looked away.

                “Sydney. If you insist on being stubborn, I do too.” He pulled my face back, gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes and see the resolve in them. “I’m never letting go, Sydney. If you want to leave, you can try, but I’m going to do all in my power to keep you here, trapped next to me.”

                And without asking for my permission, without waiting for my answer, without giving me any chance to react at all, he crashed his lips down onto mine. Forceful, dominating. Demanding, dictating. He doesn’t care what I think, his kiss said. He doesn’t care what’s going to happen, or what’s already happened.

                Even if the world were to end tomorrow, he was going to keep me here with him, stubbornly. Selfishly.

                And for just a second there, I wavered.

                Could I believe him?

                Could I finally let my walls down?

                No one is ever safe around me… but if it was this man, would he be able to hold his ground, through hell and high water, and still claim to love me?

                If it was this man…

                “…Are we intruding something?”

              Another voice snapped me out of my indecision. What was I thinking? I was supposed to be calling it quits with him!

                “ _Let go—of—me!”_ It wasn't easy, but after a hellluva lot of effort I managed to struggle free of his grasp. He just sighed when I jumped away from him like a scalded cat, as though confident he could recapture me whenever he wanted, and was just slightly inconvenienced by my escape.

                I glared bloody murder at him, hoping it would drill some sense into his thick skull.

                “Um…”

                “And what do you want?” I wasn’t in the best of moods, and I wasn't going to use my last reserves of patience on the unwelcome visitor. “How did you get in?”

                “You left the door open,” Cianán said, sounding almost amused as he looked from me to Kris, and back again. “I have a job offer for you, Asura. Your last modeling stint, I hear?”

                I almost forgot, I was supposed to take up acting next… “Fine. As long as we get away from here _now_.”

                “My, you’re impatient today. Very well, I’d rather get it done sooner than later, myself.” He pronounced the deal sealed with an air of professionalism, so I noticed straight away when things got personal. For one, his head wasn't held quite as high anymore, and he couldn’t quite meet my eyes. “And uh… I brought someone who wants to meet you.”

                “A fan?” I frowned. I hadn’t pegged Cianán as someone who would entertain errant fans, unless— “Please don’t tell me it’s a niece or relative of yours.”

                “No, actually…” He cleared his throat, and stepped aside to allow someone else into the house. “I believe it’s a relative of _yours_.”

                When I saw who it was, I understood immediately why he would think so, especially since I was certain they’d never met before. The person who stood in the doorway had the same dark red hair as me, the same slender build, the same unique eyes, though hers was mellowed…

                “...Mom?”


	19. Kris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things you just can't let go off.

Well. That was unexpected.

            I tried to keep my composure as I watched the unlikely reunion unfold before my eyes. It could not have come in a worse time, just when Sydney was so unstable…

            “Are you sure we should be here? It seems pretty private.”

            There was something in Cianán’s tone I did not like, even more so than his suggestion. Did he find this _interesting_? Like a show you would watch while eating your microwavable dinner?

            But I reigned in my indignation. He did not know the story behind Sydney and his mother. He did not know what she had done, what Sydney had had to go through. He did not know what he might have just set in motion.

            So it was understandable if he might find this… amusing. Understandable, but still unforgivable.

            “You can leave if you want,” I said coldly. “But I’m staying.”

            “…Don’t you think you should be asking me, whether I want you here?”

            Sydney’s voice took both of us by surprise, mostly because his eyes were still fixed firmly on his mother. There was emotion in his voice, a barrage of the same mixed emotions he had flung at me earlier, but there were outsiders around, so he was trying his best to hold them in check.

            Trying so hard, it hurt just to listen.

            Cianán’s expression twisted at the sound of his voice, panic lighting his eyes as I watched in cold satisfaction. He still did not know why, but he could hear it. He could hear the pain in Sydney’s voice, see his slender back trembling ever so slightly. And there was nothing he could do about it.

            And that was where I was different from him.

            Never mind that his mother was there, having finally come to meet him after so long. Never mind that Cianán was still staring, his mind still struggling to process what was happening. Never mind that just five minutes ago, he had supposedly broken up with me.

            I swept in behind him, folding my arms around his body, if only to stop his shaking. “Have you already forgotten what I said? When it comes to you, I’ll be as stubborn as they come. So even if you’re going to physically haul me out of the room, I’ll still find a way back in.”

            “ _Kris!_ ”

            When it seemed he was really going to do just that, I leant in and whispered in his ear, “You don’t have to face this alone, you know. Use me, even if it’s the last time.”

            Because that was what he did. He used people, and controlled them like puppets on strings. As long as I gave him my strings and danced to his tune, he would not push me away. 

            “No.”

            I blinked stupidly. “What?”

            “Just leave me alone!” He turned around in my arms and shoved me away, eyes blazing with… tears? “I can do this myself, thank you very much, and you can stay out of it! Come on, Mom!” And he grabbed his estranged mother’s hand, dragging her upstairs and out of my sight.

            “Miscalculated?” Cianán sounded more sympathetic than smug at my stunned expression. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it…”

            I barely heard it, my mind racing even as my body remained frozen. Sydney’s outburst was directly caused by his coming into close contact with Ronald again. He was too smart to start that relationship again, so I had not been unduly worried, but now I knew that an ex did not have to stand between us to cause a divide. All he had to do was remind Sydney of how things used to be. Of how he used to be.

            Ignoring Cianán’s questioning glances, I rubbed my temple and sighed heavily. As I had feared, six months was too short a time for him to put down his past insecurities. His change had been smooth so far-- too smooth, in fact. That meant he was changing without being consciously aware of it. And when it hit him, as it had to, it hit him hard and fast, shaking him to the core.

            So the right course of action was to appeal to the person he used to be. And that person would never let go of a willing pawn, unless…

            At that thought, a smile spread slowly across my face.

            “Whoa, creepy,” Cianán muttered.

            Nothing he said could faze me now. All of a sudden, my mood was the best it had been in recent memory. “Hey, didn’t you say you had work for him? Since you have a legitimate reason, I highly recommend you go up there now. Hopefully you’ll be able to prevent bloodshed.”

            He hid it well, but I still noticed he paled that little bit at my words. “That bad?”

            I raised an eyebrow. “Worse.”

            He swallowed hard, and bounded up the steps, two at a time.

 

“It’s really simple,” Cianán had tried to explain without sounding too flustered. “More of a hobby than an assignment, really. I’ll still pay you, of course, and quite well too. And it’s really very easy-- I found the perfect spot, just need you to pose for a few shots--”

            And that was how we found ourselves, a highly unlikely group of four, hiking up a hill at sunset.

            Sydney had not breathed a word since leaving my room with his mother, but she was still there, implying that he had not kicked her out of his life. Yet. They were not exactly walking hand in hand, though. The distance between them was as palpable as the silence, and since the only ones who had a right to say anything both chose not to say anything, the silence continued to hang over us like a blanket until we were halfway up the mountain.

            By then, the first person to succumb to the pressure was Sydney’s mother, and she reacted by starting an awkward conversation with Cianán. At any rate, I was sure she was not missing my gazes by coincidence.

            Either way, it opened up an opportunity to speak to Sydney.

            “What did she tell you up there?”

            He gave me a look I had never seen before, and yesterday I might have just backed away from the intensity of it, dropping the subject altogether. Today, I was able to just walk with him quietly, patiently waiting for his answer.

            “…She said my dad just died.”

            “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not sure if you would want to hear it.”

            “You know what? I’m not too sure myself.” He paused, but as far as I could tell, he was not rejecting my concern yet. So I waited some more, until he felt comfortable enough to continue. And he did. “She said she was sorry. She said that only having me in the family now made her glad I hadn’t died that time.”

            “Do you believe her?”

            He gave me a long, searching look, as though he was just beginning to wonder why he was telling me all this.

            I shrugged. “Even if you don’t tell me, I’ll find some other way to figure it out.”

             “…I don’t know. But I think… I think I want to give it a try.”

            I smiled, gently. Looking at him, at his uncertainty, it took everything I had not to just reach out and touch him. Comfort him. But I knew all too well that physical contact now would just worsen matters. Even the decision to ‘try’ was a big one, and too many big decisions were weighing heavily on his nerves. They were taut as a wire now—one false move, and they’ll snap.

            One bad choice, and he would bolt.

          “I trust you to handle this yourself,” I said slowly, carefully considering every word. “But promise me one thing? Promise that you won’t run away at the first opportunity. I still haven’t accepted it, and the least I deserve is a good explanation.”

            A humorless smile toyed with the edges of his lips. “So you’re saying if I give you good enough reasons, you’ll just let me go?”

            I shrugged. “Maybe.” The probability of me chasing him down until I had him under lock and key was more likely, though.

            He saw through my intentions straight away, and despite himself, he rolled his eyes at me. It was a move directly in contrast with the things he had said, the way he had been acting—and it confirmed my suspicions, that there was still hope yet.

            After all, the only reason he would not accept a voluntary puppet was that he was afraid he could not control me.

            And the only reason he could not control me would be that I had some hold on him. On his heart.

            It was not as easy as it sounded, being selfish. And telling Sydney no when he had looked at me like that, practically begging me to let him go, was just about the hardest thing I had ever done. I knew how good an actor he was. I knew he could easily cry on will, he could make those eyes tell more than anyone can say with their mouths. I knew it could very well have been fake, that he was making those expressions to fool me into sympathy.

            I also knew it could have been, and most likely was, the truth of what he was feeling.

            But still I held my ground, and refused him what he wanted most. Ask anyone who’s had their share of life and its lemons, and they can tell you how hard it is to deny the person they love more than anything in the world that one thing they want more than anything. I know I could not have done it.

            Not if I was not one hundred per cent sure it was _not_ what he wanted.

           He might not realize it himself—no, he definitely did not know it—but to me, it was clear as day. He was scared. Shocked. And people tend to make rash decisions under that kind of emotion. Decisions they did not mean to make. Decisions they regret.

            “I love you,” I said aloud. “And because I love you, I won’t let you do anything you might regret.”

            “Well, isn’t someone full of himself?” His voice was cold, but deep in his eyes I could see conflict. “They’re just words. Just like how everything I told you before. Just words.”

            “Then what about the things you _did_?” I argued softly. Once, I had believed that he had left me for good, and look how wrong I had been. “You met my family. You joined this business for me.”

            The lingering emotion in his expression vanished, and it was as though the shutters had closed behind those eyes. He threw back his head and laughed, the sound as cruel as it was beautiful. “Do you still believe I did that for you? I thought you were smarter than that! Look at me! Look at what I’ve achieved! From the street hooker to a successful supermodel, on my way to Hollywood!”

            He came closer, close enough for me to feel the chill emanating from his skin as I stared him down. “I did all those things so you would help me, Kris. You were my one-way ticket out of that hellhole. And now that you’ve outlived your usefulness, I’m throwing you away. Understand?”

            “No.” I moved even closer to him, willing him to flinch away, and being rather proud of him nonetheless when he stood his ground. “I don’t understand. As far as I know, there are still plenty of ways I can be useful to you. You’re still new, and I have connections. Plus,” I added on hindsight, “our public romance has garnered quite a bit of attention. Sorry to say this, but if it were to end, the backlash would be heavier on you than me.”

            His gaze was so cold it scalded. “Are you threatening me?”

            “I’m advising you. For your own good.”

            “For my own good, hah! Who are you to decide what’s good for me and what isn’t?”

            “Who am I?” I stared into his icy eyes, wondering if the emotion in mind could melt them. “I’m the person who loves you more than anyone else in the world. I don’t ask that you love me in return. I’ll be happy just for you to keep me by your side, using my feelings for you as your weapon.”

            So you’ll never have to be scared of anyone, ever again.

            “And why do you love me?”

            His question took me by surprise, because it was the same question Ronald had thrown at me the first time we really spoke. And my answer back then was—

            “Because you’re you.”

           “And who is that?” This time his expression remained intact, but his voice wavered. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten, Kris. You told me once that you weren’t sure about the future, but you knew that for that moment, I was the most important person in your life. Well, how long is ‘that moment’? Will it last? Is it already over?”

            “That was back then,” I answered without hesitation. “Now I’m certain. ‘That moment’ will last forever.”

            “That’s a big promise to make.” Every word was an ice cold dagger in my heart. “People change, Kris. _I’ve_ changed. I know I’m not the person I used to be. I have no idea who I’ll be tomorrow. What if I stop being the me that you love? What if you stop being the you that loves me? Do you get it, Kris? I can’t trust my life on a gun that might explode on me anytime.”

            “I—I’ll never hurt you.” For all my alleged intelligence, that was the only thing I could tell him.

            “Not willingly, no.” He tilted his head, but there was none of his usual mischief in that movement. His expression was flat. Dead. “But I’m not giving you any more ammunition that you already have.”

            “—Asura?” A voice called from the distance. There was only person present who would use that name, and it seemed that he and Sydney’s mother were already in position on the summit of the hill. “Hurry, the sun’s setting!”

            “Coming.” Sydney raised his hand to signal he had heard, and turned away from me without another word. For a second there was nothing more I wanted to do than chase after him, but—

            “Sydney, I won’t ask for much! Just promise me, if you’re ever going to leave, can you at least remember to say goodbye?”

            He paused in his tracks, but he never looked back. “…I’ll try.”

            And then I watched his back as he walked into the sunset, waiting until he was completely out of sight before finally turning in on the unwelcome intruder into our conversation.

            “You can stop hiding now.”

            My voice was as cold as Sydney’s had been, and trembled with something he had not had. Rage. This was the same person who had followed us at the amusement park, I was sure of it. And not only then, either. The sensation of being watched had dogged me consistently since then, and I knew Sydney felt it too.

            It was probably another reason he was so on edge.

            I knew I should not blame our argument on someone else. It was irrational, and irresponsible. But like I said, whenever Sydney was involved, I gladly threw rationality out the window. And I was beginning to suspect that being responsible was not doing me any favors either.

            In other words, I just wanted to vent some steam off on someone.

            “…Was I that obvious?” The man who stepped out of the bushes sounded more amused than frustrated, and looked considerably more at ease than me when we locked gazes for the first time. I could not help but frown with recognition. It was the first time I had met this man in person, but I had seen him before on TV. When he was released early on good behavior despite having just been convicted of attempting human sacrifices four years ago.

            “What do you want with us?” I bristled, but was not attacking yet. It all depended on his answer—

            “What do you think?” He shrugged. “I came to finish what I started.”

            Wrong answer. I dove at him, wrestling him back into the foliage.

            He was older than me, and the years in prison, unjustly short as they were, had still done more harm than good on his body. On the other hand, I was in the prime of my youth, and just so happened to be in an extremely foul mood. But even as I was pummeling him with everything I had, a sense of foreboding curled in the back of my mind.

            “I—heard—what—you were—talking about,” he grunted, struggling to prevent me from pinning him down to the ground completely. “What kind—of man—lets himself—be used—like that?”

            “The type of man you’ll never be.” I was having the upper hand in this fight, even landing in a few hits to try to stave off that sinking bad feeling. In fact, I did not even need to fight him, and just did it so I could do something about the negative emotions building up inside me. After all, he could not actually hurt Sydney, not without being hauled right back into jail. With men like this, their sense of self-preservation was always stronger than their need for revenge.

            Or so I had thought, until he took advantage of a moment of carelessness on my part, pushed me off, and pulled out a gun.

            He kept it aimed carefully at my chest, retreating to a safe distance before gloating, “Funny, I think you were just talking about weapons?”

            “You wouldn’t shoot me,” I said quietly. “You can’t afford to.”

            “Now why would I want to do that? We just met. I have nothing against you.” His voice dripped with an ignorance and innocence that made my blood boil. “Now your boyfriend, on the other hand—I have a bone to pick with him.”

            Going against Sydney was the easiest way to go against me. But I was not going to waste my breath explaining that to someone who clearly would not understand.

            “You can’t hurt him, either. Not unless you want to go back to jail, this time probably in an electric chair.”

            “Oh, I can hurt him, all right.” He smiled, a slow and chilling smile that pull all my hairs on end. “But as long I don’t actually have his blood on my hands, no one can accuse me of anything. Not even you.”

            And suddenly I knew what that bad feeling that had been haunting me meant.

            “Kris?” Cianán peeled apart the branches, frowning at the scene before him “We were wondering where you went. The shoot’s about to st--”

            “ _Why are you here?_ ” Forgetting all about the man behind me, I jumped to my feet and pulled Cianán up by his collar instead. If he’s here—

            “Run, little boy, run!” sang the culprit. “Although it’s probably too late, it’ll still be fun to watch!”

            I ran, dammit, I did just as he said and ran, but his words were still faster, chasing me as I sprinted. He was still gloating, maybe hoping I would turn around and sock him in the face—but as much as I wanted to make him shut up and pay, I would still rather he not owe me anything at all.

            If such a debt meant—

            The road up the hill had seemed so short at a leisurely stroll, and hopelessly long when I was pushing myself as far as my legs could take me. Or maybe it was all a matter of seconds, drawn out agonizingly in my mind. Either way, light travels faster than any man, and so I had to watch in horror as my eyes took in what my body could not reach.

            He was standing at the very edge of the hill, leaning on the handrail and looking out over the cliff. What was he thinking? The tiny part of my brain that had yet to catch up with the present wondered idly. What was he thinking to make him look like that?

            Was he thinking about me?

            Or was he thinking about—her?

            _“Sydney!_ ”

            My legs could not reach him in time, but my voice did. He turned around, eyes wide at the panic in my voice—just in time to see the mother he had just re-acknowledged charge at him with murder in her eyes.

            Run! I screamed in my head, but there was not enough air in my lungs any more. Dodge! Fight back! Please!

            But he just stood there, watching her come at him with an expression filled with despair so deep I felt it from so far away. The pain was etched onto his face, so concrete I could read the thoughts that I knew were running through his mind right then—

            _So… I’m still alone, after all._

And he let her push him over the railing without putting up so much as an ounce of resistance.

            “ _Do you see that, darling? The devil spawn is dead! I killed him! Are you happy up there, now?”_

Her words were high, shrill, and completely insane, but just as I knew they pierced Sydney like daggers in his heart, I let them slide over my head without registering them at all. Right now one thing mattered, and one thing only—

            I finally reached the summit, and fluidly jumped over the railing.

            As I remembered, the way down was a sharp cliff where the rain had long since corroded any vegetation, leading into a forest at least 50 feet below. Branches and rocks snagged and scratched me, but I barely felt them at all, focusing fully on the tiny figure falling in front of me.

            Sydney… Why are you giving up? How can you give up?

            Blood rushed in my ears as I tucked in my limbs, willing myself to fall faster. He was not struggling, letting gravity take him as it saw fit, and as much as I hated the emptiness in those eyes that seemed to look through me, seeing instead the sky beyond, I had to be grateful as long as it meant that he was not falling any faster than I was.

            Just a bit more— I was pretty sure I hit terminal velocity ages ago, and still I pushed myself, willing the air to part before me as I reached out. Just a bit more, and I’d reach him—

            Once I folded my arms around him, the world stopped turning black around the edges. As long as I had him, I knew for sure, everything was going to be fine.

            He did not resist, not even when I held him tight enough to suffocate him, but I did not dare lighten my grip. This was the pivotal moment. It was nearly impossible to maneuver midair, but all I could see now was how close the ground was getting, and how fast. Even if I used the branches to slow us down, hitting the ground now would mean having him crushed under my weight—

            No. Never.

            So I used our momentum to slowly but surely turn us around, until all I could see was the sky, and his flying red hair. And just in time, too, because not two seconds later we hit the ground.

            The landing was so abrupt, all I felt at first was full-body numbness. And then the pain. My vision immediately went red, so red it was turning black. The metallic tang of blood was rising in my throat, filling my mouth, leaking out. But even as the darkness threatened to engulf me, I fought it, fought it like a leaf against a wave, not yet, I can’t—not yet—

            Movement. Though in my current state I barely noticed it, not until he touched one of my ribs and sent a new bolt of pain shooting down my spine. I was grateful, though, because it cleared the black fog over my mind just a little, enough for me to see his eyes, wide with—pain? Guilt?

            Love…?

            I nearly laughed, and as much as it hurt, it cleared some of the blood in my throat, just enough for me to whisper,

            “…thank… goodness…”

            The blackness was taking over everything. but I resisted to the end, keeping him in my vision, watching him take my hand, bring it to his face—realizing that I could no longer feel it, that the coolness of his skin was just my imagination—thinking that, no matter what he was feeling, at least he was conscious, at least he was safe—

            Thinking that dying like this, his face being the last thing I see, was better than anything I could have ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the penultimate chapter... for now :3


	20. Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At one point, you have to stop running, and make your choice.

For a long time, I didn’t know what to think, or how to think.

                What had just happened? My mind couldn’t register it, couldn’t keep up. One moment I was looking out at the sunset, and the next Kris was screaming my name. I’d never heard him sound so panicked, so scared—Somehow, along the way, he’d become the pillar that held my life together.

                And then I turned around.

                It had taken me a few long seconds to recognize that face again, the face that had recently crawled out of my nightmares to reenter my life. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe I was still dreaming. My mind had stopped keeping up from the moment I realized that he wasn't leaving no matter what I said, that no matter how I tried, my life was never going to go back to the way it was.

                The moment she came in, held my hands and told me that maybe the future wasn't that scary after all, and that I wasn’t in this alone.

                But I saw the truth in her eyes, in the hatred there. It was a lie. She was lying. It was scary.

                I was alone.

                Funny… hadn’t I thought that being alone was better? Having no one around me, no one to hurt me…

                No one for me to hurt…

                The next thing I knew, I was falling—falling—

                Her words reached me anyway, cruel words, said with a cruel laugh.

_“Do you see that, darling? The devil spawn is dead! I killed him! Are you happy up there, now?”_

            She… blamed me/ For Father’s death? All I remembered of him was a weather-beaten face with permanent wrinkles on his brow, and even that was fading. Everything was fading, everything except her words—

                So it was my fault, after all? It was my fault I was alone?

                Yeah… that made sense… I could see the faces of all those who cared for me, who may actually have loved me… All those faces contorted in pain when I took that love, and used it, and then threw them away… Ronald… Cianán… haha, my only girl friend, Sofea…

                Kris…

                He was the only one who wouldn’t let go. No matter how cold I acted, or how hard I pleaded, he was still chasing me, determination blazing in his eyes. Even now, he was swooping through the air like Superman without a cape…

                Why? Why won’t you let me go? Don’t you see? Are you that stupid?

                I’m not worth it!

                But he came closer anyway, eyes lighting up with a joy so fierce it made me cower, and wrapped his arms around me, just like he did that first time he confessed at my old school. His grip was so strong, as though he wanted to squeeze away all these thoughts I was thinking, and for a moment instead of falling, I could almost believe we were flying.

                We were flying, because he had refused to let go, no matter how hard I pushed him away.

                And then reality hit.

 

I must have passed out on impact, but for how long I couldn’t tell. The world was still blurry, and I couldn’t feel my right leg.

                That’s weird… I was sure I’d be roadkill by now…

                I tried moving, and a flaring pain shot up my left arm.  It was at an unnatural angle, and I was pretty sure that was bone sticking out of the elbow—and yet the moment I felt movement beneath me, I stopped caring, or even noticing.

                I… thought I had landed on leaves… not…

                Not--!

                Suddenly everything was in clear focus. The blood on his lips, in his mouth. The blood on his shirt, on his chest, where I had just—

                The smile that spread, too slowly, over his face as soon as his eyes met mine…

                And the words that he said, with what could only be his last breath—

                “…thank… goodness…”

                No! I grabbed his hand with my good one and pressed it to my face, feeling panic take over. Don’t say anything! Don’t move, don’t try to talk, save your energy, don’t—

                “Don’t leave me! Kris!”

                But his eyes were slowly losing their focus, losing their light—No, no, no, no—

                “Help! Somebody, _help_!”

                My voice came out as a screech,  but I didn’t care, screaming until I felt blood in the back of my throat, screaming until my voice was hoarse, hoping to reach somebody, _anybody_ —

                Hoping it could reach him—

                “Asura!”

                Never had I been so happy to hear that name, or that voice. Cianán was here, he had heard me, he could save—

                “Please! Please save him!” I sobbed, trying to lift Kris, hating how helpless, how lifeless he felt in my grasp. My other arm was useless, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him further, but I couldn’t wait, I couldn’t just sit there while Cianán made his way, while he called 911—

                Ten minutes too long later, the paramedics arrived, and they had to wrench my arm off of him to bring him to a stretcher. I swatted away the ones who tried to persuade me onto the other one, dragging my equally useless leg behind me as I struggled to keep up with them, still holding his hand, still feeling his warmth—

                Because I was afraid that if I ever let go, I’d never feel it again.

 

When I woke up, it was in a daze. Five seconds later, everything came crashing back to me.

                _“Kris!_ ”

                I jumped out of bed, feeling the world spin in Technicolor before someone grabbed my arm to steady me. For a second my heart leapt into my throat—he was alive! he was here!—before my vision cleared, and my heart sank back into the pit of my stomach.

                “You don’t have to look so disappointed,” Cianán smiled, but his expression turned solemn immediately. “I’ll take you to him.”

                I nodded mutely and tried to walk, but my legs wouldn’t listen to instructions. Frustration built up in me, and I pushed forward anyway, only to hit the ground face first.

                And still I didn’t feel any pain.

                “Asura… Sydney.” I had never heard Cianán sound so gentle, and my real name just sounded alien on his tongue. Why was he saying it? I didn’t want him to say it. I only wanted—

               “The effects of the anesthetics haven’t worn off yet,” he was saying apologetically as he lifted me into a wheelchair, the words sounding like they came from a distant planet in my ears. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, just a broken arm and some damaged nerves in your leg. The doctors used the general anesthetic because you were… hysterical. Everyone’s saying it’s a miracle you weren’t hurt worse,” he added quickly.

                “It wasn’t a miracle,” I said softly. “It was Kris.”

                He had saved me, risking his life… Of course he had.

                “Asura?” Cianán asked, confused at why I was laughing.

                Of course he had, it was just the kind of stupid thing only he would do…

                The only person who loved me—lowly, useless me—more than his own life.

                “…He’s still alive.” Cianán’s voice was quiet as he wheeled me down the hospital corridors, and just knowing that we weren’t headed to the morgue calmed me down and sobered me up instantly. “It was a close thing, though. If I hadn’t seen him with that man and guessed something would happen, the paramedics would never have made it in time…”

                “How bad is it?” I asked calmly.

                He looked at me for a long time before answering. “Broken ribs. They punctured some organs, but the damage wasn’t too bad. He landed legs first, so they’re broken, but nothing that can’t be fixed. Most importantly his spine is okay, so there shouldn’t be paralysis or anything permanent like that…”

                “But?” I said softly. Because there was obviously a ‘but’ in there somewhere.

                “…He hit his head. Quite badly.” I couldn’t see him, but I knew Cianán was biting his lip. “The doctors said there was no bleeding, which is of course a good thing, but they still can’t tell when he’ll wake up… if he wakes up at all.”

                I digested that piece of information carefully, but I was still not ready for what I saw when we reached the ICU. Cianán said nothing more, just handed me over to the nurses there. We must have made quite the scene coming in, because they seemed to know who I was, and just as quietly prepped me.

                “Just so you know,” Cianán spoke up suddenly. “The police detained your mother and the mastermind. She wouldn’t say who put her up to it, even though it’s pretty obvious. If you want, I can--”

                “Do whatever you want,” I said, waving him off impatiently. I didn’t care what happened to them anymore. Besides, I wasn't the one lying there in the ICU, my life hanging in the balance. When he wakes, I’ll listen to whatever he decides, whether to spare them or condemn them. And if he doesn’t wake… well, I couldn’t think that far yet.

                Cianán smiled sadly. “And that’s where you’re different. If you were hurt, he would hunt them down to the ends of the earth.”

                I shook my head, but smiled back anyway.

 

Once in the room, I was alone with him and the half a dozen machines keeping him alive.

                It must have been less than a day since then, but already he looked a mere shadow of the man he had been just a few hours ago. His skin was deathly pale, his face drawn—and when I picked up his hand, it was colder than it had any right to be.

                “That’s not fair,” I murmured, bringing his hand to my face, wishing with all my heart that I could warm it up just as he had warmed me up, many more times than I could count. “I know you protected me. I know it should have been me. So who are you to decide that? Who are you to make me wait for you like this, when it should have been me…”

                My voice cracked, and I dissolved into sobs. “Don’t leave me, Kris. I don’t know if you heard me that time, but I need you to hear me now. You made me promise not to leave you without saying goodbye first--”

                But back then, my reply had been a pathetic “I’ll try”.

                “I was stupid. It was a stupid answer. I’ll do more than try. I’ll do anything you want… no, I’ll do anything except one thing, I won’t say goodbye, I don’t want to say goodbye anymore, Kris…”

                Do you hear me? Please hear me. Because if you don’t, then those stupid words will be last thing you’ll ever hear me say…

                “I promise. I take it all back. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything…” Anything at all you ask me to, as long as you’re the one asking.

                I rested my head on his chest, careful not to put any weight on it at all. Already my neck was feeling stiff, but it was nothing compared to the relief I felt when I heard his heart pounding…

 

Something was wrong, something has changed… wake up!

                I bolted up, sweat trickling down my brow as I frantically looked around for the thing that had woken me. For one blissful second I’d forgotten where I was, and why I had been so tense even in my sleep. Once everything came crashing back, though, rest was thrown into the furthest corner of my mind.

                My heart was going so fast, pumping blood through my entire body so quickly I felt as if I could just jump out of this wheelchair any time and attack anything that dared approach us. If anyone tried anything… If anything happened…

                Kris, this time I’ll protect you.

                But nothing did happen. Nothing changed. The machines were still beeping away cheerfully, keeping my only hope alive, and at the same time highlighting how utterly quiet the rest of the room was. Even my breathing sounded loud in my ears, and gradually my heart slowed down, its beat turning from a dizzying, anticipating fear, to a deep, despairing one.

                How long had I been asleep? The sun seemed to be setting again outside, making it one whole day since he had sacrificed himself for me without a second thought. Nothing seemed to have changed since then, and yet everything had. When I had first awoken, before I’d seen him, I was terrified that I’d never see him, that he’d be gone without saying goodbye, just like I’d so selfishly threatened to do. Compared to that, I’d gladly wait like this forever—But would he let me?

                “Kris…”

                Talking to patients helped. Everyone knew that. But what do I say? How can I convince him to come back to me, when the last thing I did was to push him away? What _could_ I say?

                “…I need you.”

                The things I never said, the things I had been too stupidly, stubbornly proud to say. The things I had always felt, the thing I had always known, but refused to acknowledge.

                “I need you, Kris. I can’t live without you.”

                Once I said them, I couldn’t stop. The words flowed out, like the tears running down my cheeks, running down his hands when I brought them up to my face. They were just a little warmer than the last time I’d felt them—was I reaching him?

                “Do you hear me, Kris? I won’t say it again, you know I won’t. So if you don’t listen now, you’ll never hear it again…”

                I kissed his hands, whispering, “I love you. More than anything. I’ll live for you. I’ll stay by you forever. I’ll do anything you want…”

                “…Anything?”

                A tiny voice, small and feeble, and yet as soon as I heard it, it was the only sound in my entire world.

                “--Anything.” Anything, as long as you tell me this isn’t a dream…

                Slowly, one of the hands I was holding pulled away to take off the oxygen mask over his face. A small voice in the back of my mind told me to stop him, and another was yelling at me to ring the nurses, but I was too stunned to do anything other than watch him struggle with it, waiting for him to tell me what he wanted me to do—

                “…the l-left drawer…”

                I leaned in closer, almost pressing my ear to his lips as my heart hammered through my ribs.

                “…I got the ring. It’s in the left drawer back home.”

                I pulled away, to stare at him disbelievingly. He looked sick, tired as hell, and still pretty much half-dead… but he also looked smug, and crazy happy.

                “How do you know I’ll say yes?” My mind was only screaming that last word, but my mouth came up with the rest on its own accord.

                “You said anything, right?” If it was possible, he seemed to be getting better by the second. If anything, he felt more alive than ever, and definitely more so than he was just an hour ago. But he was still more fragile than I’d ever see him, more fragile than he had any right to be. “And you already promised to stay with me forever, so what difference does it make?”

                “…How long have you been listening?”

                “Since you woke up.” He grinned broadly, broader than I had thought was possible for someone who’d just come back from death’s door.

                “T-then why didn’t you say _anything_?” My words caught frustratingly, but I couldn’t help it. This was real, he was back… the tension that had been holding me up fell away, and the relief that swept over me in its place threatened to tear me down completely. But I fought it, fought to keep myself together. This wasn't over, he wasn't safe yet, I should call the doctors _now_ …

                But my mind was still stuck on: _he’s awake. He’s back._

And instead of doing the smart thing, such as calling the professionals, my body did something that would only make the situation worse—

                I threw myself onto him, and kissed him with everything I had.

 

“I do believe that’s only the second time you started the kiss,” he said blissfully. The nurses were all saying they’d never seen a patient leave the ICU looking so happy.

                “Shut up and eat your orange,” I snapped at him, peeling another apple from the huge basket the hospital had given once they realized who we were. It was thanks to them that no information had leaked out yet, though, so I wasn't complaining. Recovering would be that much harder with paparazzi haunting the lobby. “Ow!”

                “Your hand’s not completely healed yet.” His concern was even more annoying than usual, since it was coming from somebody the doctors said wouldn’t be leaving his hospital bed for at least two more months. Besides—

                “—It’s not because of that.” I sucked the tiny cut on my finger resentfully. “And worry about yourself first.  “If you don’t get out before Christmas, I can’t guarantee I’ll still be there when you _do_ get out.”

                “Oh, but I can,” he said with that infuriating confidence. “Surely you see that you can never leave me again? Not as long as you care for my life.”

                My first reaction was to freeze up. My second was to throw the apple at him. But I refrained.

                “…Are you threatening me with your life?” I pushed the words out through gritted teeth.

                “No, I’m just telling the truth,” he said breezily. “I hadn’t thought so either, but I guess I was wrong. When you’re at stake, I really don’t know what I might do… I might not jump off a building of my own accord—Ashe would resurrect me and kill me again—but I can’t say for sure I won’t walk into a busy street without thinking, or drink the wrong medicine by accident--”

                “All right, all right, I get it!”

                He laughed, coughed a little, then turned his expression solemn. “Trust me, Sydney, you’re the most selfish, self-centered person I know. You don’t care about anyone but yourself—so if you care about me, that means I’m important to you. I’m yours, and you won’t let anyone take me away.”

                “Don’t sound so stuck up! …And that’s not the reason.”

                “Really?”

                “Okay, it’s not the _only_ reason.”

                “Then what else is there?” He bit into an orange slice and winced at its sourness, so I took the opportunity to mumble a quick, incoherent,

                “Because-I-love-you.”

                “I know. And I love you too.” Of course he heard me anyway, and of course he had a cool response to it. “By the way, I never got to tell you why I love you.”

                It had been a stupid question for me to ask, and I still regretted it, but I was curious in spite of myself. “Why?”

                He shrugged. “Because you’re so unpredictable. I never know what you’re going to do next, and I never know what I might do in response—and yet everything you do, every time you surprise me, it makes me love you even more.” He smiled, kissing me lightly on the lips, but when he tried to pull away I held him there, kissing him harder, trying to take in every part of him I could touch, and then some.

                By the time I’d had enough, he was looking dazed. “Like that.”

                I hid a smile. Like I said, it had been a stupid question, and I hadn’t expected an answer—but it seems Kris can surprise me too. A future with him still sounded strange, and maybe even a bit scary, but whatever happened, I will definitely be keeping that answer with me for as long as I live.

                “And why do you love me?”

                His unexpected question made me jump, and I cut myself again on the fruit knife. “Ow!”

                This time he didn’t come to my rescue, just sat there smirking, and I couldn’t decide which was more infuriating. “You still have to answer me, you know.”

                Why…? I thought back to everything that had happened since I unwittingly let him into my life, let him turn my life upside down, inside out, and every other way possible. I thought about how he had pushed his way into places I had kept locked up, how easily he had let me into his. How he had stood up for me, time and again, the pains he had taken to pick up the pieces of my life and put them together cleverly in a way that could no longer stand without him.

                How he had convinced the world of his love for me. How he had convinced me.

                And most importantly, how he had convinced the world I was worthy of that love.

                How he had convinced me.

                At the end, my only answer was:

                “How could I not?”

                And I knew, only an idiot like him would beam as though it was the best answer in the world.

                “Ow!”

                “I think that knife has a grudge against you.”

                I just scowled at him, at his innocent bewilderment. Of course it didn’t, and of course he knew that. Of course he knew the real reason. And of course he hadn’t forgotten what I said, about how there was more than one thing keeping me by his side, ensuring that I could never leave again, no matter how hard I tried. Not that I ever got to leave him the first time.

                “I just have to get used to this.” I held up my hand, staring at the ring on my finger and trying hard not to blush.

                He grinned with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, you’ll have all the time in the world to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final chapter~ Thanks for anyone/everyone who read, and to quote one of my favorite authors, there's no 'the end', only 'endless'!


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